DISCONTINUED: Mass Affect : Revised Edition
by CuHnadian
Summary: Our lives have gone from quietly living in Canada's west coast to fighting for our lives in a world we thought to be fiction. Somebody is responsible for this and we will find him, hopefully. Trust, training, flying cars, self inserts and... Zombies? - A retelling from the writer of "So You're in a Self Insert 3". Pre-ME1. Contains Violence and Strong Language. You've been warned.
1. Chapter 1 : Opening

******Disclaimer : Mass Effect is owned by Bioware. The only thing I can take credit for is my original characters. The rest of the credit goes to them. Any bands, companies and films are also not owned by me.**

* * *

**Mass Affect : Revised Edition**

**Chapter 1 : Opening**

**Unknown Date**

**Unknown Time**

**Unknown Location**

I had been shot, in agony with a hole in my left shoulder. I was running through city streets. I wanted to say it was Earth's city streets but I couldn't be sure. I could've looked up to see if the moon was visible but that wasn't an option at the moment. A mechanical creature bigger than a skyscraper made sure of that. I had seen plenty of things from behind a computer screen but this was taking it above and beyond. There was a good reason this race of sentient machines were called "Reapers".

The only consolation was I wasn't alone, but if I was alone my friends wouldn't have been involved in this mess. They would've continued to live their lives, play games, go for walks, bitch about shitty jobs. We could still do all those things but never in the same way as before. Ever.

We could see an abandoned store front a block ahead of us. My skin tightened when I turned around and saw the terrifying sight of the Reaper, it's laser started charging, I knew that this was it. No matter what we did.

My name is Lucas Raycevich and this is the end of my fucked up life.

* * *

**December 21st, 2012**

**6:45 PM, Citadel Time**

**British Columbia, Canada**

Well, it wasn't that fucked up before then. It was pretty average all around. I had turned eighteen in October, was being schooled at home and enjoyed a small group of friends. Unless you count posting on a fifteen thousand subscriber Youtube network that once had Pewdiepie as an achievement, I was just another guy who existed.

"I'm eating energy drinks and drinking energy bars!"

That was Bjorn. He also existed. I was originally from Vancouver but that changed after my mom and dad split up though they weren't married. When I was ten we moved to a tiny island called Bowen. If you've ever played Alan Wake or seen Harper's Island then you can guess what it was like. Then again Harper's is kind of cheap since it was filmed on Bowen, but that's an entirely different matter. What was I talking about? Oh yeah, Bjorn. To make a long story short, his mother was a good friend of my mother so we had met before I moved to the island. To say he's shy (likes to keep things to himself) is an understatement. I've known him for nearly ten years and don't really know shit about him other than he's quiet and Half Life 2 is his favourite game. But that's just who his is. Plus it's not like he needed to be loud.

"Nrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr."

"I'm Lucas, I've got to get snipe clips for my montage, nrrrrrrrrrrrr."

Phil and Paul didn't need the helping hand. I had known Paul for about as long as I had known Bjorn. Unlike Bjorn, Paul was not a person that kept everything to himself. He's a nerd just like the rest of us but he's not into picking entertainment apart like me. He only cares if it's fun or not and there's nothing wrong with that. I would bitch that he's a hypocrite but it doesn't really matter since he knows and doesn't care.

As for Phil, he was a more recent friend. While Bjorn and I were both home learners, Paul was stuck with having to go to West Van High. I used to say that everyone from West Van High was a douche and I probably still would've had Paul not gone and proved me wrong. Phil was the first of Paul's friends from West Van that made me change my statement from "everyone" to "most". That didn't mean he was a choir boy. The mental image of him being one is pretty amusing though, mostly because he'd make all of the others go deaf with his screaming. Most people compared his screaming to a pterodactyl and they weren't far off.

"What's wrong with me liking the sniper rifle?" I asked.

"Because you're bullshit with it."

Shea knew all about my said bullshit. Granted most of my friends knew, it was hardly a secret. Shea was another friend from the Island. While I had been home learning for the past few years, I did go to a private school called the Learning Centre. After getting picked on by pretty much anybody other than Paul or Bjorn at the Island's public school BICS (or DICS as I liked to call it), my mom and step-father had enough of the administration's uselessness and found a better option. Shea had been at the Learning Centre before me and we became fast friends. He was like the brother I didn't have, even to the point where people mixed us up.

"Case in point!" said Shea right as I shot him one in the head. Sniping people in Halo never got old for me.

Terran and Josh joined me in laughing at Shea's bad luck. Like Shea, I met Terran at The Learning Centre but he had enrolled about a year after me. Terran was shy at first but it wasn't long before the three of us started hanging out all the time. He was also a freak when it came to height. Many adults marvelled at how tall I was and I guess 6'2 is tall, but Terran was two inches taller even though he was a year younger than I. His little brother was also amazingly tall for his age.

Then there's Josh. We were from the same block back when I lived in Surrey and had been friends since Kindergarten. We grew up to be very different people. While I was sitting at my computer bitching about my tanks in Company of Heroes shooting the ground, he was taking survival courses and getting in shape. While we didn't get to see each other much, and he didn't have an Xbox or a good PC to game with, we still maintained our friendship that went all the way back to being five-year olds rocking Dualshocks on a Playstation.

Once more I nailed the final kill with a perfect head shot on Shea. The scoreboard came up.

_**Red Team**_

_CuHnadian 25 - 6_

_**Blue Team**_

_Be Ded 3 - 10_

_Omega 2 - 10_

_xPEPPx 1 - 5_

"Another one!" I announced, knowing what came next.

"No!" echoed Shea, Josh and Paul.

"Aw, why not?"

"Like you don't know," said Josh. "Let's play World at War."

"So you can pick Castle and camp in the fucking tower with shotguns?"

"Yes!"

Shea stood up. "He'll probably just snipe us through walls anyway," he said, dropping the controller on the couch.

"What are you going to do?" asked Paul.

"Get back on my Mass Effect playthrough,"

"Wow! You're as bad as fucking Lucas!"

"Nrrrrrrrrrrrrr, Mass Effect! Nrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr," added Phil.

"Are you ever going to shut up with that?" I asked.

"Not until you stop obsessing over that game."

"Says the guy who put over two hundred hours into ME2 alone!"

My raised voice only made the whole thing more entertaining for Phil, laughing with Paul.

"Still can't believe they delayed the third game _again_," I said. Bioware had pushed the game release back from March to September, and recently push it back to 2013. Something about working on the ending. "I mean, how bad could it be to push it back a year?"

"Probably really fucking bad," Paul replied.

I sighed. It was annoying yeah, but there was always Gabe Newell's statement to fall back on. "A product is late for a little while, but a product will suck forever."

"Why don't we just watch a movie?" asked Terran.

I shrugged, getting up from the couch and walking to the computer, stopping Shea from booting up ME from my Steam profile. "I've got a few on here." I scrolled through the videos folder before coming across the "Movies" file. When it came to entertainment, I was a gamer first but I still loved music, movies and TV shows. I would've just pulled out another Guy Richie film but they already saw _Snatch_ and _Rocknrolla_. So I looked at what _Snatch's_ producer turned Director put out in 2010.

"How about _Kick Ass_?" I asked.

The debate on movies lasted longer than I thought it should but we settled on my first suggestion. I had seen it twice and some of the others had already watched it but that was fine. It was still one of my favourite films. Bjorn took out the spare drive that was from my Xbox and used it to transfer the movie. While Shea hooked up the PS3 to my big TV, I went over to get some chips and soda. Once I reached the kitchen, I opened the drawer and brought out the chips before opening the door, pulling out the last bottle of Pepsi.

"I still don't like you drinking that crap," said my mother.

I know you would probably picture that being said by an old lady on a rocking chair but trust me, it wasn't. My mom just wasn't a big fan of me drinking pop all the time.

"Can't you just use the good stuff I bought from the Ruddy?"

The Ruddy was our Island health food store. "We already drank them." I smirked.

"Jesus," my mother chuckled. "Can't you lay off it for a little while?"

"Neva! No but seriously, Shea brought this over and we're about to watch a movie, it's going to get used up no matter what. Besides, you said it's okay to indulge once in a while right?"

"I guess."

I saw out of the corner of my eye a stack of letters on top of a box. "That the book I ordered?"

"It wasn't sent to my name so no, sorry."

That meant it was sent to my step-father, probably Maclean's magazine trying to get him to renew his subscription. I set the drinks and chips on a tray so I could carry it with one hand and reached for the box with the other.

"Why are you taking that?"

"Last time they sent something in a box it came with a shitty calculator. I'm just curious to see what they sent this time."

"I don't think he'd like you doing that."

"I don't give a fuck!" I said before closing the door and stepping into the family room, where I found the gang fighting for the space on the couch.

"Why don't we just take the mattress out?" asked Josh.

"We can't, not since Shea broke it," Paul replied.

"How was that my fault? You were sitting on it too!" said Shea.

"Bjorn, Lucas and me talked about it. We agreed it was your fault."

"You mean, Bjorn, Lucas and I," added Phil.

"Shut up!"

Shea looked at Bjorn and I. "Thanks for the support assholes!"

"It's good," replied Bjorn.

"No, it fucking isn't!"

I set the drinks on the coffee table and sat on my computer chair, reaching for something to cut the tape on the box I carried.

"Well it was your fault."

"How!"

I laughed at the bickering as I opened the lid revealing another box. _A box inside a box. What will they think of next! _I took out the case that looked surprisingly high quality, like something that came out of a Sci-Fi. Just as the PS3 booted up and showed the video list, I opened the Sci-Fi box, seeing what looked like a small round device. Like one of those grenades from Mass Effect 1. I pulled it from it's holder when it emitted a beep.

"What the f..."

I was interrupted by a sudden ringing in my ears. My vision went completely white, then went altogether; I was blind, my mind in shock. I could feel myself getting up from the chair, my feet on the ground, the astronomically painful noise. That was when my body started to feel vague, numb, tired, until it was impossible to stand any longer. I felt my knees go as I collapsed to the ground, my face landing on the hardwood floor right before I lost consciousness.

* * *

My body was in pain. Normally my body would be in pain only after sleeping in a bad way. The cold metallic floor was a big contributor, but I was lying with my arms spread out and my legs close together. I finally opened my eyes in my normal wake-up routine, My vision was blurry, typical. I would sometimes misread my clock, confusing the hour and minute hands, but even in my disorientated state I could tell that this wasn't my house, this wasn't my island, hell, it didn't even feel like my fucking province. The air was perfect; warmth coupled with a light breeze that didn't ward off the heat too much. Comfortable.

I raised my head and immediately regretted it. My neck only felt like it was dislocated. My arms felt like jelly but I still had enough strength to lift myself off the ground and steadily balance myself on my feet. I looked around. The place housed machinery I had never seen in reality but the place was administered like it was nothing special. The floor was dirty, the lighting dim and bland, the atmosphere dull. All the makings of a warehouse, except I had never seen a warehouse with this kind of tech installed.

I looked straight up to see that there was no roof. I saw what looked like a city but hanging upside down. This was getting weirder by the second. Helplessly confused, I looked back at where I was when I saw a body in the distance. He was on the floor just like I was. _Paul!_ I ran as quickly as I could, nearly falling on my ass, the dirty floor causing me to slip and slide along the ground. I shook my friend by the shoulder.

"Paul, wake up!"

"Fuck off," he muttered.

"I'm serious Paul, get up. Where are the others?"

"How am I? Oh, fine thanks for asking."

I shook my head as he slowly got to his feet, as did I. I was about to ask him where we were when I noticed another familiar face waking up; Shea.

"What the hell?" he shouted.

"I think we're going to be getting a lot of that," I said.

He was about to get up when he stopped and put his hand to his neck. "Does anyone else feel that?" He kept itching that part of the skin.

I was about to ask what he was on about when I felt it too; a small bump, like something had been injected. It didn't hurt or emit anything but that didn't mean it was nothing worry about.

"Yeah, I've got it as well."

"Me too," said Paul. "What happened?"

"You guys started the movie and I was opening..."

"Hello!" shouted a voice a couple hundred feet away. Phil.

"We're over here!"

Emerging from behind a pile a junk was Josh, Terran and Bjorn following Phil, all appearing to be in the same state as the rest of us; tired and sore but uninjured. Paul asked them if they had a weird itch on their neck and they all said Yes.

"Okay, the movie was about to start, I opened the box, a flash bang hit us, we're knocked out and we end up here."

"Congrats, you have short term memory," said Paul.

"I'm just trying to lay out what the fuck happened to us."

"Well somebody dumped us in the middle of nowhere."

"But why? Why would somebody knock us out and drop us off here?"

"Fuck if I know."

"Then shut up and stop giving me shit."

"Am I the only one that thinks this looks familiar?" asked Phil.

He wasn't. I thought so too. I couldn't put my finger on it but there was something familiar about this place.

"Why don't we just figure out how to get out of here before jumping to conclusions?" asked Terran.

His logical approach seemed like the best option. My mind was still in a haze. The serotonin made my skin feel as tight as a drum. This was bad, and it was only going to get worse. All of us surprisingly remained silent. The only reasons we were ever silent in the past was boredom and it didn't take a genius see that wasn't the case. This was fear.

It didn't take long until we found a corridor. We came to what looked like a dead-end but the wall turned out to be a door that rose to the ceiling, allowing the path to lead to what appeared to be an alleyway. I could hear noise outside, maybe there was somebody around that could help us. When we stepped outside I turned around, hoping to see something over the door, but there was nothing. Just blank wall.

"Got anything on your phone?" Bjorn asked Paul.

The latter pulled out his iPhone and shook his head. "Nothing, no signal what so ever. There's no Wi-Fi either."

We were about to turn the corner.

"How can we be in a city that doesn't have Wi-Fi or a cell tower?" asked Josh.

"Maybe this is all just bullshit," said Shea. "I mean there's an upside down city for Christ sake."

I stopped when I turned the corner, at first to get a proper glimpse of where we were, find my bearings. All the veins in my body were numb from shock, anxiety and confusion. What I was looking at wasn't possible. Shea was right. This was bullshit. It had to be. There was no way in the holy mother of hell that this was real. Everybody stopped, all of us blown away. Five humungous galactic arms protruded from a central circle miles ahead of us. The skyscrapers made New York look like Bruges. The air was filled with flying cars. The street wasn't heavily trafficked but I observed races of aliens that could only come from one place. _The Citadel. Mass Effect. We're on the Citadel from Mass Effect!_

"What the fuck?" we said in unison. Except Josh... and Bjorn.

* * *

The shock only grew as we approached the aliens. Salarians, asari, turians; they were all here. I thought this was all bullshit but there was no denying how life-like they were. That went for the Citadel too. Monster computers on max resolution weren't even in the same galaxy as this. They could do it no justice. It was incredible. This did raise a problem though. _How the fuck do we get out of here! _I always thought being here would be a cool experience but I never thought it would actually happen!

Then there was Josh, who asked a question only he could've asked.

"What's Mass Effect?"

I always joked I was a living, breathing wikipedia of useless information, including things in the Mass Effect universe but I had no patience for it. We didn't have a clue as to where we were but thankfully we found a big sign with a map of the Ward we happened to be on, akin to the ones you see in a supermarket. I guessed it was for the seven people - i.e. us - on the station without omni-tools. Apparently we were at some Warehouse district close to the center of Zakera Ward. At least that's what I first thought. "Close" turned out to be over an hour of walking, in areas that shouldn't exist with aliens giving us funny looks, probably due to our 21st century clothing. We ignored the looks while giving Josh a quick 101 on the aliens. Hot blue chicks were asari. Fast talking smart asses were salarians. Walking birds were turians, etc. We did have an hour after all.

The areas were becoming more crowded and the streets high tech, causing more funny looks from aliens. In one of the streets I spotted one of those corner couches, like the ones you would see in Mass Effect 2. A place to provide us some time and space to rest was a win-win.

"This makes no fucking sense!" I said. "How in the holy mother of fuck did we end up here!"

"Out of all people, I would think you would find this cool," replied Phil.

"Yeah, it is cool. It doesn't mean I want to fucking be here! And again, how is this even possible!"

Paul sighed. "Keep asking the question, maybe some magic will happen."

I took a deep breath, slamming my head against the edge of the couch. _That was my catch phrase._

"Maybe this is all just a dream," Bjorn speculated.

"Yeah, but whose dream would it be? 'Cause it wouldn't be mine. I never have lucid dreams."

"Could we just try to figure out what to do next?" asked Josh. "I feel like my head's going to explode if you continue with this dream crap."

He was right. Even if it was all bullshit we might as well think things through logically.

"Alright," started Paul. "We're in a new place. So what do we need first?"

"A place to stay."

Terran cut in. "Except we don't have any money."

"Credits," I corrected.

"Whatever. Point is, how are we going to get a place?"

A thought clicked in my head. I didn't know what year it was but we were on the Citadel. There were humans and aliens, so we had to be at a point where space travel was possible. That means we were possibly over a hundred years in the future from home. The thought made me depressed but it was worth pushing through.

"Give me a second," I said.

There was a food store nearby. I knew they carried rolls of bags for customers to carry their groceries. We were in the future yeah, but people still played the violin back home and you never saw them begging for a revolution. The idea paid off. I returned with a new bag made out of some kind of space-age plastic. It was fucking weird.

"Put your stuff in this." I said, holding the bag open.

"Why?" asked Phil.

"Just do it."

Everyone complied. The bag was loaded up with everyday objects including my wallet to antiquated hard drives to Bjorn's Zune player.

"So what's your point?" asked Terran.

"This stuff is useless to us. You're never going to get a tower or Wifi signal because they doesn't exist here. This stuff may be old but it's still working. I don't know what their worth but we should be able to get something for them at one of the stores."

"That's one of the...best idea's you've ever had," Paul said, slowly. "Who are you and what have you done with Lucas?"

"What? I can be helpful when I want to."

"Then let's find a place to sell this shit."

"Not the way I'd put it but yeah, let's," added Terran as we stood from the couch.

Now we just had to find a store and only when I passed a turian - a freaking turian! - did I remember that we didn't have a map. _Fuck my life._

"Guys," said Phil, coming to a halt while looking at something to his left.

"What?"

Phil didn't answer, just started walking in the direction he was looking. We followed. I recognized what he was going for; a screen on the wall with a holographic keyboard below it. Let me just repeat that. A. Holo. Graphic. Key. Board. While confused as to how this even worked I saw what he was getting at.

"We can at least get some idea of where we are," said Phil, "maybe even find a store and see how much our stuff is worth before we go."

"Find out the date too."

"Uh, yeah, I'll get right on that," he said, looking at the screen.

"Come on man, it's just a keyboard," said Paul.

"Uh...open sesame?"

"Oh for crying out loud," sighed Paul, moving toward the screen.

"It's okay, chill out, I got this."

Phil stopped trolling and hit a key. Instantly the screen revealed a desktop much like a standard operating system. Phil realized a missing factor; there was no mouse. Before I could say anything, Phil came up with what I thought was the alternative, a touchscreen. He clicked the date in the corner, covering the screen in a big menu with a number.

45/2/302145

"What the fuck?" we said in unison.

"Did this thing just glitch?" asked Phil.

That was when I noticed why this was covering the whole screen rather than just the small corner like the computers of old. There were options and one of the tabs included "Calender". It was obvious. Every species kept track of time differently with their own methods.

"Change the calender to ours," I said.

Paul refrained from mocking me as Phil silently changed the date to Human, in turn changing the numbers on screen.

03/17/2181

Two years before the events of the first game. Not like that mattered. Despite the effort, we ended up not caring about the date and instead shifted our focus toward finding a place to sell our "shit," at a shop only a few blocks away. I was thankful; my legs and feet were already becoming numb.

* * *

Some things never change. War, school, cereal. I could go on all day but if there's one thing I wished to have gotten fixed after a hundred and seventy years, it would have to be queues. Whether it's at a gaming convention to play the latest and greatest version of shoot-that-guy, or waiting to sell a bunch of your old crap due to being stuck in what you thought to be a fictional universe, queues still sucked fucking nut sack.

Strangely, I was scared and excited at the same time. Here we were, with no possibility to call home, far away from our comfort zones, our safe houses, our north star, whatever you call it. I was still in awe of how amazing this place was, seeing it with my own eyes on a level I had never experienced. Then there was what we could possibly get from this. Sites on the extranet suggested our stuff could add up to two hundred and fifty thousand credits. My family once had money like that but to actually think of us possessing that kind of cash was a whole different prospect. But I still hoped that I would see home again, that this was just a fantasy where the financial troubles and isolation of the past were replaced with money and adventure. About seven paces away from the front desk I leaned over to see a customer looking at the salarian clerk. The shock of actually being amongst these creatures hadn't worn off.

"Identification please," the clerk said sharply.

While the human activated his omni-tool to show his I.D a light bulb went off in my head. "We've got a problem," I whispered to the group.

"What?"

I discreetly pointed to the clerk. "It looks like you need to have I.D. Which we don't have."

There was a collection of sighs. "Shit," said Paul.

"Come on, let's get out of here."

We left the building, searched for another public terminal and sat down once we found another lounge area on this station. I had my hands on the keyboard, resting on the desk as I had no idea what to do next.

"Search for fake I.D's."

I turned around. "What?"

"Search for a place to buy fake I.D's," repeated Paul.

Now I didn't worship the law but I didn't break any serious ones. Hell I didn't even smoke pot, let alone using fake .

"How would we get them without credits?"

"Barter. Trade them for some of our stuff. They'll probably accept them."

"Probably?"

Paul sighed. "Do you see any other options? Identification is the only thing keeping us from getting some credits and a place where we can sort this whole thing out."

"He's right," said Josh. "We don't have a choice."

"This is so fucking stupid," I muttered.

I wasn't referring to Paul's plan, I knew he was right. The fact any of this was happening was what really baffled me. Maybe that flash-bang back home was some kind of sick prank. Maybe I damaged my head and was on a hospital bed in Vancouver. Ignoring that, I searched for somebody that could give us what we needed, and some decent quality , not just something to get into a nightclub. I found a site saying that a group called Zion could deliver the goods. I searched for "Zion". It was a gang, related to more investigations by the police then I cared to count. Not only that, it was on an entirely different Ward, Bachjret.

Still, this really was our only option. _Great, I'm going to fucking die and I can shoot straight out of my bed when I wake up. _My dreams ranged from seeing my step-dad with Vaas' mohawk from Far Cry to lions in my front yard. This wasn't crazy in the same way but it was still up there.

With our decision made, the next step was to find a rapid transport. _Wait, they don't charge credits do they?_ To my sheer joy they were free. Which then begged the question, why would anybody want their own vehicle? That answer was quickly revealed when I opened the door. I didn't know what the smells were specifically but I knew that if a forensic team tested this thing they would have a fucking laugh.

Terran, Shea, Bjorn and myself rode in the first vehicle, Paul, Phil and Josh in the other. We aligned our destinations on the vehicle's maps as the mass effect core behind us booted up. The sound was weird but not as weird as the vehicle lifting off the ground. The security of a layer underneath the car's floor was gone, the only thing separating me and thousands of feet of air was a few inches of whatever metal they used to make these things. My knuckles were white from holding the sides of my seat as the vehicle continued to lift up before darting to our destination. Did I mention that I'm afraid of heights?

* * *

My palms were sweaty from gripping the seat. I tightened up as the shuttle suddenly banked before decreasing its speed and coming to a stop, landing gently on the ground. I opened the door to see Paul and the others landing next to us. He looked joyful compared to me but then he always did like air vehicles. The way I felt about cars, Paul felt about planes and helicopters. So I'm sure he would jump at the chance to ride in a flying car.

I looked to the upper right corner to see Zakera Ward in the distance, still amazed at the beauty and technology of the place. I paused to take in Bachjret Ward. The wards might look the same at a distance but now that I was standing in a different one I can state that it's not true. Bachjret didn't look old by any means - at least not to me - but there were several key differences to suggest that this area didn't get the most funding. The buildings were tall but not as towering as the skyscrapers on Zakera. They didn't make me feel like a dwarf. The floors weren't made out of the same material as Zakera either. It was much like my hometown in many ways, but in space, on a galactic station, with aliens walking around. Actually, it wasn't much like Vancouver but it was still pretty cool.

Along the ride we had found out that for no charge the vehicle would drop you off at any transit station. For five credits though, you could pay it to go exactly where you wanted. Due to our financial situation, we had to settle on getting as close as we could to Zion and walking the rest of the way. The thought of getting fake from them was making my skin tight. I wanted to get it over with.

I kept the bag in my hand as we made our way down. We were still getting some funny looks but not as many as on Zakera. I liked to think I had a poker face, which I tried to maintain as as we strolled each block. The best way to the do that was simple. Argue.

"How can you say Black Ops 2 is crap when it's core gameplay is CoD4?" I asked.

"Because it's all the same every year," replied Paul.

"So how does that make them bad?"

"Because there's no changes or improvements at all. You always go on about how Pokemon is the same."

"Yeah, because I always thought Pokemon sucked ass right from the start."

"You just hate anything that's Japanese," said Phil.

"I don't hate Paul, so that's not true. I just hate animes."

"Why?"

" 'Cause what I've seen of them is just over the top Japanese cliché bullshit. It's either robots or fifteen year olds with fucked up hair going 'Uhh, dat's muh uncle!'"

Paul laughed. None of us were the sort of people to throw hissy fits the instant our nationalities were mentioned.

"It's okay,' said Phil. "Just calm down A.D.D."

"Really, that's my nickname now?"

"Hey, Phil said it not me," added Paul.

We turned the corner, I opened my mouth to reply when I stopped dead in my tracks like I had never done before. Having a shotgun pointed at you by a seven foot tall Krogan would probably do that to any normal person. From the lack of footsteps behind me, I guessed my friends were equally normal.

"Whoa!" I said, instinctively putting my hands up.

"Don't move a step," the krogan said quietly in a deep, rumbling voice.

I had never been mugged but I knew people who had and from what I gathered the best thing to do was the opposite of any fictional character.

"Drop the bag on the ground and kick it to me, no funny business."

I did exactly as I was told. Heroes may do the stupid thing but in reality muggers don't want to kill you. The krogan leaned down to pick up the bag in his one hand while he balanced the shotgun in his other.

"Fax, we're good."

Suddenly another being came from a small alleyway next to us; a batarian with what looked to be a sub-machine gun. This was the first time I saw both species up close. A seven foot tall beast and a humanoid with four eyes had a serious effect on my serotonin levels. It was cool sure, in the same way that seeing a rhino up close would be cool.

"It's about time we got some luck. Any longer and our boss would probably have our heads," said the batarian, his weapon trained on us. "Go get some new clothes humans, you look like you just walked out of the last century."

_You have no idea. _They turned their backs and started to walk away as we remained silent, I let go of a breath I didn't know I was holding as I pondered what had just happened. _I just gave away everything we were going to use to get our and money. Now what! We're fucked! _In a panic, I looked back at the aliens walking away with our lives.

If you asked me why I did it now I couldn't tell you, I just did. I quickly walked up to them, grabbing the nearest thing which happened to be a piece of old metal. The krogan was carrying the bag. I narrowed my eyes and focused, raising the hunk of metal behind my shoulder, like I would back at the golf course. Just as I made my first swing, a voice caused the krogan to turn around.

"Lucas!" yelled Terran.

I had ignored the protests behind me while I moved but Terran was impossible to cancel out. My friend's concern caused the krogan to turn around. He brought up his shotgun just in time for my weapon to hit him in the face. It was the first time I heard the sound of metal hitting bone and I didn't know what to think of it. I didn't have the freedom to think with the batarian raising his weapon. Stupidly, I threw myself at him, knocking him to the floor along with his machine gun. I scrambled off of him. He placed his hands on the ground to get up but I slammed my stick on his head, forcing him back down to the floor.

My panicked breathing was unlike anything I had ever experienced. I stood and thought about what to do next. My eyes locked onto the bag of items. I ducked down, grabbed it and ran, throwing the stick aside, observing my friends, all with the same look on their face.

"What the fuck was that shit!" yelled Shea.

"Doesn't matter, just fucking run!" I said, running into the same alley the batarian had emerged from.

I looked over my shoulder to see my friends following, and the batarian getting to his feet with the SMG. He unleashed the weapon's firepower just as Phil got behind the wall with the rest of us. Today was marking a lot of firsts I had never wanted to experience, like getting fucking shot at!

* * *

**(Shea)**

This was ridiculous. In just a few moments we'd been flash banged, woken in a fictional universe, ridden a flying car, mugged by aliens and to top it all off, gotten shot at! Not the fun kind involving air pellets or paint balls but real fucking bullets! Granted they were chip size bullets that traveled at the speed of light but who cares, they could still fucking kill us! And we didn't have protection of any kind. We did the only thing we could do, we ran. Lucas had a head start and was in front with Phil and I at the back, aka the first in the gun's cross hairs. I turned around to see the two aliens entering the alley entrance. I looked ahead to find some sort of cover when I saw a fork in our path.

"Split up!" I shouted.

Everyone agreed. No path was superior so I took the closet, the left. I felt the wind from the chip size bullet damage the wall next to me, just as Phil, Paul, Josh and I jumped into the alleyway, leaving Lucas, Bjorn and Terran on the right. The aliens said something I didn't understand but I turned to see the batarian - Fax - making a left and the krogan making a right. Our path contained a left turn to another alleyway that went straight. We knew going down it was a death trap due to the closed door at the end. Fax would be able to gun us down, no way to resist.

_Okay, okay, think! _I had my hands laid over my head while I thought and came up empty.

"Get in the corner," said Paul, gesturing to a small crook hidden behind the path we just came from.

"You do it," said Phil.

"What?"

"You do it."

"Are we really going to do this now!"

"I'm not going in that fucking corner."

"Fine! Shea come on."

I agreed without question. It didn't matter which side I was on, they had an equal likelyhood of death about them. I got a quick glance at Fax as I crossed the entrance to the small corner. The four-eyed bastard sprayed his weapon as I passed, hitting the wall that used to be behind me. I had my back placed against the wall along with Paul. Josh and Phil stood behind a wall on the other side. Josh appeared to be lying in wait. While Phil may have been doing the same, he didn't look ready.

I held my breath, hearing the batarian's footsteps slow. I tried to determine which side he was facing but the echo made it difficult to tell. The footsteps halted, the silence deafening until I was suddenly looking down the barrel of a gun. The weapon fired, but missed. I jumped, looking at the hole in the wall behind me before turning around to see Josh tackling the guy. Josh pulled his arm back for a right hook when Fax headbutted him, knocking him off.

"Fuck!" yelled Josh, grasping his forehead.

The batarian was about to stand when I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled as hard as I could. I didn't think I would actually choke him, it was to buy time more than anything. He tried to pull my arms off but failed. I grinned at my success, which made my teeth more prone to damage as he elbowed me in the jaw. I desperately kicked out but missed, hitting the gun in his hand instead, causing it to slide across the ground. Paul moved in for a hit but Fax blocked his punch and countered him in the stomach. Paul hollered in pain, leaving himself open to the uppercut that came next. Fax moved in for a kick.

"Hey!" said Josh. Everyone turned to see him wielding the bastard's SMG. "You forget this?"

Fax didn't waste time and was headed for the path we came from. That was good enough for me but Josh pointed the weapon at the fleeing Batarian.

"Do you even..."

Before I could say anything he fired the weapon, bullets erupting, meeting their target, which happened to be the wall next to Fax. Josh didn't cease firing until the Batarian was out of sight. We all stopped, panting heavily. Well, almost everyone.

"Thanks for the help Phil!" groaned Paul, resting his hand over the red mark on his face.

"I was going to help."

"Bullshit," I said.

The process of blaming someone - usually me - didn't get far, as Josh moved down the path, heading to the other path in the alleyway's fork.

"We've got to get the others, come on!"

We followed, hoping our friends were okay, knowing they were going against the bigger of the two muggers. _They better be okay._

* * *

**(Lucas)**

_Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!_

My legs were burning as I ran. Bjorn, Terran and myself were like the three little pigs hunted down by the species most resembling King Kong. The path led to some kind of abandoned warehouse, yet I could hear machines in the background, probably from the neighbouring factories. With the place covered in a blanket of dark lighting, I glanced over my shoulder to see a silhouette of the beast behind us. The bag in my hands was still making a racket, but not enough to drown out the distinct click of the krogan's shotgun.

"Get down!" I shouted, diving for the nearest cover which happened to be a stack of crates.

I couldn't see what the others had done, could only hope that they weren't hurt. I felt the force of the gunshot behind me. I shivered as I crashed onto the floor, my body sliding into the crates. I grunted as pain started to drift over the whole front and right side of my body. I turned on my back to lessen the pain, only to be greeted by a shotgun barrel.

_I'm going to wake up in my bed! I'm going to wake up in my bed and everything will be fine! _I closed my eyes, waiting for the gunshot. The krogan stumbled back, a sudden hole in his armor plating. He screamed in pain as more shots were fired. With the ammo count past twenty he was still standing on two feet, grasping the shotgun in his hand. I finally got to see who was shooting at him; Josh, a sub-machine gun in his hands, firing in bursts at the beast.

"For fuck sake!" yelled Josh after thirty five rounds.

The krogan was down though still moving. Josh continued to fire when suddenly the trigger emitted nothing but clicks, nothing erupting from the barrel. Josh kept trying to shoot as I watched the krogan lift his head, his piecing eyes directed at my friend. The beast's fingers were still wrapped around the shotgun as it started to move. Josh had already used up his offensive abilities, we wouldn't have time to run away before he fired again. Everyone held their breath, waiting for the krogan to take action, until he let the shotgun fall out of his hand and come to a rest on the floor, along with his head.

Even with the threat apparently gone, I held my breath, realizing what Josh had just done. No, what I had just done. What we had just done. We had just killed somebody.

**Now Playing : Michael McCann - Opening Credits**


	2. Chapter 2 : Fadeaway

**Mass Affect : Revised Edition**

**Chapter 2 : Fadeaway**

**March 17th, 2181**

**Unknown Time**

**Factory District, Bachjret Ward**

Despite a few confrontations when I was in public school, I was not a fighter, or a troublemaker. I was normally the person on the sidelines, watching others cause trouble, therefore not bearing any of the consequences. This was different though. The only reason those thieves were after us was because I panicked. Now Josh was standing over a dead Krogan with a smoking gun in his hands. The factories made a lot of noise but my friends' silence was driving me insane. I sat there panting, hoping someone would say something.

I heard feet shuffle and turned to see Terran making his way over to the corpse. He covered up his nose and mouth. I didn't blame him, the stench filled the entire factory. He knelt down and looked to see the motionless eyes that only one type of being can emote.

"He's dead." Terran's voice shook as he started to move away from the body. He turned look at Josh. "You just fucking killed him!"

"He was going to kill all of us! What fucking choice did I have!"

"I-I don't...god damn it!"

Terran threw his arms down and started to pace, moving further from the corpse. I only realized then just how sore I was, hearing a crack from my left knee as I stood up, wincing as the pain quickly subsided. That was when I saw Josh looking at me.

"What the fuck was that?"

"What?" I gestured with my arms.

"What was that back there! Hitting two gun wielding thieves with a fucking stick! Were you trying to get us all killed!"

"I didn't think about it I just did it! I figured if we lost our way to get those we'd be completely fucked!"

"We'll we're completely fucked anyway," said Paul. "Someone's going to find that and we'll end up a cell."

I started to pace around, covering my ears.

"Well are we going to do something?" asked Phil.

"If you've got an idea, feel free to share."

"Will you just chill out?"

"Maybe I wouldn't need to chill out if fucking Lucas didn't leave us with a dead guy on the ground."

"I was the one that killed the dude," said Josh.

"Are you seriously taking his side now?"

"Who said anything about sides?"

"Who cares?" said Shea, raising his voice. "And why are you going on about the cops? I don't hear any sirens and there's nobody around. Why do you think those bastards robbed us here in the first place?"

"I'm just saying!" gestured Paul. "I can't go to prison, look at me, I'll get raped like fucking crazy."

"Compared to him," said Josh, pointing at Terran. "Not even close."

"Hey!"

"What? It's true."

"No, Phil would be the first for sure."

"And how do you figure that?" asked Phil.

"You're the shortest. You wouldn't be able to get away before me."

I took a deep breath. "Fucking shut up!" The noise from the factories registered once again as the main conversation came to a halt. "I need to think!"

"Oh wait everyone, Lucas needs to think," mocked Paul. "Everybody back the fuck up!"

I knew my shout wasn't going to have a permanent effect, but the resulting three to five seconds of silence sure was nice. Their bigotry didn't take long to start up again while I walked around the factory. I could see the neighboring confinement a few spaces away, a logo on the top, the _Citadel Waste Company. _A light bulb went off off in my head. I exited the place through a small door and came upon an open entrance to the C.W.C. There wasn't a single soul inside, the place was littered with machinery. In the middle of the shelter was a unit with a conveyer belt leading to a hole that waste fell into. Over the belt a sign said, _Waste Incinerator_.

I told myself I was crazy for thinking such a thing but the fact that I was standing on the Citadel at all was a sign that the fourth wall had fallen ages ago. I ran back to the other factory, knowing what was next.

* * *

"What the fuck do they feed these guys?" I asked. My arms felt like I was holding up a house of bricks. Even with Phil, Shea, Josh, Bjorn, Terran and myself carrying the Krogan, I still sweated a storm. There was also the fact _someone_ wasn't helping.

"Hrrrrrrr," said Paul. "This guy weighs a ton, holy crap, wowzers!"

"You seriously pick a time like this to quote Red vs Blue?"

"Okay, fine," he sighed, moving toward the side to lend a hand. We were past the half way point and had made it to the C.W.C plant. All we needed to do was set the beast on the conveyer belt. It took a lot of pain and blasphemies but we did it, causing a horrendous noise as the belt strained against the weight of the Krogan. I wiped the sweat off my forehead with my sweater sleeve and panted as the beast moved toward a cage of fire.

"So what now?" asked Phil.

"We need to clean the place up, make it look like nothing happened. Try not to leave any DNA that they can trace."

"You really do watch too many cop shows."

"You can never be too careful. Besides, how hard can it b..."

I stopped and turned my head at the sound of a thump from the conveyor belt. The hole was blocked by the corpse, too big to make it through.

"You want to finish that sentence A.D.D?"

"Shut up, Phil."

* * *

I would estimate that we spent about a half hour at the factories. The first ten minutes were spent shoving that dead Krogan into an incinerator to burn to a crisp and the rest of the time we tried our best to wipe the place clean of prints and evidence. My sweater had Krogan blood on it so I discarded it and used it to mop up the volumes of blood from the floor, so much blood I had to ask Bjorn if we could use his sweater to get the rest. His response was typical.

"But I like this sweater."

Bjorn was stubborn but not overly so. You just had to egg him on and he would usually give in. He settled with being stuck with his long sleeve shirt and we got the rest of the blood cleaned off with his we were done cleaning, we dumped all of our crap into the incinerator, including the weapon Josh had used to kill the Krogan. I had noticed something weird. The gun had a thermal clip. Josh didn't stop firing because it overheated, it just ran out of ammo. Yet according to the lore, thermal clips weren't out until after 2183. Granted the reason for it didn't make any sense but still, it did make me pause. But considering what we were going through, the evolution of weaponry was hardly my biggest concern. And my friends gave even less of a shit.

We were leaving the alleyway and back on the street when sirens went off in the distance. A deep feeling of dread crawled up inside me, trying to break out of my chest.

"Shit!" hissed Shea.

"We've got to get out of here," said Terran, about to make a break for it when Shea grabbed his arm.

"Don't run, that'll just draw attention moron."

"Sorry, I just...what if we missed something back there?"

I turned to look at him as we moved. "All we can do now is hope that we didn't."

"Or hope that this is all just my wild imagination," muttered Shea.

"Or both."

"We've got the stuff right?"

The rattling in the bag I held hadn't registered until Shea mentioned it. I opened the it. "Shit."

"What?"

"Some of the things are missing. I'd say we have maybe three quarters of the stuff that was in here before."

"Fuck me!"

_Look on the bright side. _"We should still have enough to get those . The estimated value for these things more than covered the price of the them."

"Do we really want to get them from these guys?" asked Terran as we turned left to see the front of what could only be described as Zion's headquarters. Still with no alternative in sight, we kept moving.

"We'll it's a bit late to question this now," countered Paul.

"I'm just saying, what if this goes wrong?"

"We've got the things for it, there'll be no problem."

"How do you know?"

"Because they're just interested in money. This stuff is worth money, do the math."

"And what if they decide to take our stuff and kill us."

"No they wouldn't do that...right?"

Paul's tone shifted dramatically.

"Hey, you!"

We turned to see a Turian in full armor, a huge assault rifle in his hands. I tried to keep my expression as neutral while my brain was shifting like tectonic plates. I was looking at a fucking Turian for crying out loud! I could see every little detail, right down to the tiniest marks on his face.

"Well we can't change our minds now," muttered Terran.

He spoke the truth. With that in mind we all stood in place as the Turian walked forward. Paul then took point, receiving some raised eyebrows from Phil and I. He turned around with an expression that said "Let me do the talking".

"You don't always need to be fucking team leader," muttered Phil. I didn't need to turn around to know that he was rolling his eyes.

"State your business," said the Turian.

"Uhh, we, we're here to buy some fake ."

The Turian remained silent as he side stepped to clear the path toward the H.Q. "Don't do anything stupid."

His deep voice, along with the flanged effect caused us to move forward without question. As we neared the place, I couldn't help but feel we were descending into the in the pit of places we should not fucking be in. Just like all of the other places we had been to, a door with a green hologram greeted us, retracting into the ceiling and floors when we stepped close to it. The sight that was revealed appeared to be an old fashioned bar. Big seats next to the windows, wooden counters and most importantly, plenty of big scary men chugging alcohol, dressed like they ready to invade the Russians. They weren't all humans either. Individuals of all species were taking an interest in the group of out dated young humans frozen in the entrance.

I've had the feeling of all eyes on me before, but never like this. Fear started to rise inside me once again.

"Let's just keep moving," whispered Phil.

"Yeah, let's," I replied.

The people inside didn't make things any more pleasant, their eyes still tracking us like jungle cats stalking their prey. We went down the only path that didn't lead back the way we came, revealing a large staircase, guarded by two big humans, a Krogan in the middle. It made me wonder if there were any Krogan farmers or comedians, 'cause so far, it seemed they were all paid to stand around looking scary and it worked.

"Follow me, humans," said the Krogan.

This guy didn't look as low as the one chasing us down the alley with a shotgun but I wouldn't say he was exactly friendly. The thing that was weird was how menacing they were, yet their eye level was not much higher than mine. It was surreal talking to someone my height who made me feel like an infant.

We did as we were told and slowly walked up the stairs. It seemed to get darker as we moved up, like we were getting closer to the cave. As the floor evened up, the Krogan typed a code into the door's hologram before it opened. The Krogan stepped inside the room. I felt like I was standing in a 1940s era office. The place oozed cigar smoke, dark lightening and noire. The Krogan put his hand up, making us stop just past the door's entrance. There was a desk, someone behind it. The Krogan exchanged some inaudible words before stepping aside and to reveal who I could only place as The Boss.

He was big, but not enough to be fat. Imposing was the word but not in the same sense as the Krogan was imposing. It wasn't just because of the man's clear strength, it was also knowledge. Knowledge that he acquired from experience, well that and more than half a brain. He was in an suit, hanging loosely with nothing else but an old fashioned hat. If it wasn't for the pistol sitting on his desk with nearby thermal clips, I would've swore that this guy was ripped from the century I was born in.

"So, how may I be of service?" asked The Boss.

His voice was gruff, like he ate pebbles for breakfast. His age was part of his delivery but it wasn't just that. It added to my suspicion that this guy had and seen and done things.

Once again Paul took point. "We were looking to buy some fake . Mr..."

"People call me, The Boss and so will you," the man said with a smile, he had the ability to make such an expression look intimidating. "If it's I.D's you're looking for then you have come to the right place, dear boy. I was just like you kids when I first arrived here. On my own, with friends being my only family left. That's also why I know what is in that bag."

He pointed at what was in my right hand, emitting an occasional rattle. His attention was now on me. Being put on the spot, my mind raced.

"How much for seven then?"

"Depends on what you've got."

He gestured with his hand toward the table. I looked at my friends standing in silence. _Well, it's not like I can say No. _I walked forward and gently set the bag on the table. Not knowing what to do, I remained in my spot as he looked into the bag's contents. He started to pull things out and set them on the table, single file. The first thing was Paul's iPhone, soon followed by Shea's iPod Touch. By the end he had five devices on the table, leaving three items in my bag, the portable hard drive and two wallets containing some Canadian currency.

The Boss's silence was nerve-racking, but soon he pulled out seven datapads and set them in front of me in a stack. I rose an eyebrow at him, the five objects he had traded for the were estimated to be worth over a hundred grand. Being old and wise, he knew what I was silently asking.

"These will get you anywhere. There isn't a single security system in the galaxy that can detect them. I'm giving all of you the chance to start your lives over, so don't be surprised that it'll cost you, dear boy."

He ended his sentence and dropped the bag next to the datapads. I never asked for our lives to be changed, but it would have to do. I placed the datapads in the bag, picked it up, moved away from the desk and stood next to the group.

"Everything's on there. When you're done making your identities, a card will eject from the datapad. You can later copy the info to an omni-tool, if you choose to do so."

"Thank you." I nodded. We made our way back toward the door.

"One more thing."

We stopped.

"You should find a table downstairs. It'd be smart not to forge identities out in the open."

* * *

So that's what we did. We still got long looks from people in the bar but by that point I didn't care. Since arriving we were getting more attention than Alex Jones on bath salts. We found out we were only able to forge one identity per pad. So we had to sit down and really think about what our new identities portrayed. Not that we wanted to. Seeing as how we still thought that this all had to be bullshit and were just rolling with it, sitting in an HQ of a gang filled with people that could beat the shit out of you wasn't a desirable scenario.

I wasn't the kind of person that put on a mask to portray myself as someone else so I tried to keep my I.D as close to the real me as possible. An eighteen year old earth born named Lucas Raycevich who left with his friends. Everyone else did something very similar, except when it came to age. According to our new I.D's we were all eighteen. By the time daylight set we'd traded the wallets in our bags. The cash they contained added up to just about ten thousand credits. It wasn't what we had in mind but it was still more money than any of us had handled.

After everything that happened, I just wanted a place to crash. We went to the nearest hotel once we were back on Zakera Ward. The hotel's entrance looked nice, futuristic architecture on full display. Paul's dad would've had a fucking riot had he been here, as would any architect from back home. I immediately regretted thinking about him as it reminded me that he wasn't here, none of our parents were. When you're young you want to do stuff on your own, but we always have our parents in contact. Not here. Here we were truly on our own and I hoped as we walked to the receptionist that I would wake up, back in my own bed.

We paid for two connecting rooms and received our key cards. Like I said, some things never change. The same could be said for our hotel rooms. Five star inns couldn't hold a candle to the apartment and this was just your average stay in a night building. The two spaces weren't huge but they were lavish with space age material from the floors to the ceiling. I couldn't help but gravitate to the outside porch, revealing a breathtaking view of the galactic station. I shook my head in amazement, dumbfounded by how this place actually looked. I didn't think I'd be able to look at it behind a computer screen ever again, all the texture packs in the world couldn't compete with what was in front of me.

_Do I even want to go back? _I winced at the thought, immediately discounting it. How foolish it sounded. Like a six year old wanting to run away from home because his parents didn't buy him candy. Staying would mean never seeing my family again. No goodbye note, never getting to experience my life as it panned out. It made me think about since we arrived, no idea how we ended up here, on our own with no contact, not knowing how to leave or get out. The fear of being trapped here hit me like a wrecking ball.

"Hey."

Taking in the view my thoughts had zoned out. I turned to see Josh.

"You okay?"

I nodded, trying to put on my best poker face though my blood was pumping fast. "I'm fine. Just a little taken in by this," I said, gesturing to the view.

"Yeah, it is pretty amazing. It feels like ages since I just relaxed."

"It's only been a day."

"I know. That's what gets to me."

He looked no less troubled than I was. The fact he shot and killed somebody more than concerned me. "What about you? I mean, I know you you did it to save me which I can never repay you for but...you killed someone."

"That's just it though. " Josh shook his head. "I don't feel anything. He wasn't going to stop until you or everyone was dead. He didn't leave me a choice."

I didn't feel bad for the Krogan either. The guy was a petty thug.

"What do you think is going to happen to us? I mean, really?"

I had been thinking about it for some time and honesty was my first impulse. "I don't know how we can get out of here and I don't know of any dreams I've had where I know it's a dream while it's happening, ever. My dreams are a lot weirder than this."

"You don't consider being dropped into a fictional universe that's currently reality weird?"

"Well when you put it like that."

"I just really hope it is a dream."

We all had things back home. Thoughts of what our future lives might be like. If this was now our reality, then everything had changed.

"Me too, Josh."

* * *

It took me ages to fall asleep. I couldn't help but think about the day's events. If they had been real. I could feel myself turning in my bed, annoyed with my brain that was on overdrive. After what felt like hours but was probably minutes, I tossed the blanket off and placed my feet on the floor. I noticed it was wooden, not space age. I opened my eyes and a wave of relief came over me. It was my room! Filled with my useless bulletin board and shelves. I walked over to my closet and reached for my white-as-snow bath robe hanging on the door. All bundled up, I opened the door, greeted by the same small hallway leading to the stairs.

The small squeak I was familiar with echoed as I walked downstairs before arriving at to the foyer. The trees were lush green, enhanced by the shining sun. I turned around to see the back door and its view of the far away city, the Pacific Ocean playing its part. I sighed in relief seeing the kitchen and both my mother and father making breakfast. I stepped toward them but wasn't any closer to them. I looked down to see my feet moving but not making any progress. My parents were drifting further away with no reaction. I kept trying to move forward, sprinting as fast as I could, yelling out their names. I stopped to catch my breath, eyes gazing the floor. When I looked up, my parents were farther away than ever. Then suddenly, I was being moved forward while my feet remained in place. Just when I was about a foot away, my parents morphed into...something. I couldn't process what or who they were, but the closest figure was holding out knife and it cut through my shirt.

* * *

My eyes shot open. I was panting immediately. My blanket was curled up along with the rest of my clothed body, moist with the cold sweat. Whenever I had a bad dream, I only realized upon awakening how little sense it made. I slowed my breathing down and sunk the back of my head into the comfy pillow. I closed my eyes but didn't try to sleep. I didn't want to fall back into the dream. Knowing that resting was pointless, I pulled off the blanket and set my feet on the ground, for real this time. When I stood that was when I saw it, again. The space age materials, the bright, modern lightening, the artificial morning cycle, the buildings that made me feel like an ant and the five arms of constructed perfection laid out in an oval torus design.

I really was on the Citadel. We were on the Citadel!

* * *

"This is bullshit!" shouted Terran. "How can this even happen!"

"Well it has," I replied. "So unless you've got some Doctor Who contraption I would appreciate it if you would stop fussing and let us think about this."

"Stop? I've been taken from home, trapped on a space station, shot at by aliens and now find out it's actually happening! Oh sure, I'll just stop and chill out, no problem!"

"You think I don't know this! I've got family back home too! You tell me how the fuck I'm supposed to know that a package from the mail is able to do something like this!"

I was sure that we were going to get a noise complaint but I didn't care. The past hour had been nothing but a yelling match between all of us, except Bjorn of course. Terran didn't have an answer and the room drifted into a rare silence. I closed my eyes. Deep down I knew we were screwed. Dreams feel real while we're in them but even when they don't make sense. This was different. The Citadel should not exist, but when I walked around, seeing other species, seeing businesses and people go about their day to day routines, it didn't feel unnatural. It felt real.

To say this was a shock would be a huge understatement. Terran began blinking, more than usual. I knew the cause, I could feel the tears wanting to burst out but I could never do it, no matter what the circumstances and definitely not there. I was standing in the hallway in front of our door. Terran got up and walked to the door. I say door because when I was in his way, he remained silent and shoved me aside. I was caught off guard and didn't have time to stop my self from collapsing to the floor.

Josh was the first one up.

"Hey! What was that!"

Terran was out the door, Josh was moving more quickly.

"Terran!"

I held my hand up. "Let him go."

Looking confused, Josh shook his head and leaned against he nearest wall, sighing. I didn't blame Terran in the slightest. We like to think we can handle ourselves in dire situations, and some of us can, but for regular people like Terran, Josh, Bjorn, Paul, Phil, Shea or myself, it's all wishful thinking

Shea walked past. "I'll go talk to him."

I really was on the Citadel and I didn't want to be.

**Now Playing : Celldweller - Fadeaway**

* * *

**Authors Note : Yet anther change, The Boss appears much earlier on than before. Once again, I apologise for any errors but hope that you still enjoyed the chapter. I didn't want the characters to just get over everything the instant they land on the Citadel. I have had some writers block for the past few days but I'm hoping I can get chapter 13 finished by the end of the week. Thanks for reading and as always, PEACE.**

**P.S. Has anybody seen the Kick Ass 2 Trailer? I'm so looking forward to that movie!**


	3. Chapter 3 : A New Momentum

**Mass Affect : Revised Edition**

**Chapter 3 : A New Momentum**

A lot had changed in the two weeks following the main event, though nothing as cataclysmic. The things we'd done would have been banal back home but doing them in a fictional universe created an entirely new context. I was in a moment of grief with no time for it. Every moment alone was a struggle to fight off tears. The times I lost were the times where I felt like nothing. That I could just find a rooftop or a knife in the kitchen and be done with it. I never became suicidal but it sure was nice to think about.

Terran came back to hotel and apologized for shoving me. I didn't hold it against him, not that his apology wasn't appreciated.

Paul had taken us to another public terminal afterward. It was clear that he was trying to steer his attention elsewhere but nobody could blame him. I didn't like thinking about how I'd never see my parents again either.

The best case scenario was that I'd left a different version of myself behind and all was well, but how likely is the best case scenario? It was more likely that I had disappeared, leaving my parents behind to despair. My mother would be on her own, my step-father would descend deeper into depression and my father's pain and paranoia would skyrocket. With all of that to take in, looking up rent pricing on apartments felt like a vacation.

We had around ten thousand credits remaining, 10K which we could boost up to 15K if we sold my portable drive and some clothes. The plan was to rent a spacious apartment and buy some omni-tools since everyone and their cat's cat seemed to have one. We could've just found some temporary loft to hold out in while we got something better but I wanted to have something that had at least some value, especially after all we lost. Paul was able to find a building located in the Four Hundred blocks with connecting apartments so we got three for the seven of us. Before asking for a look over, I asked Paul to do some digging into the four hundred blocks. Thankfully, it wasn't a bad part of the Citadel. I remember staying at a place in Seattle with Paul, Phil, and Bjorn. The street felt like the Mexican border, one side of the street got progressively better, the other, worse.

After inspecting the place and area it sort of felt like my dad's place in Burnaby, the suburb east of Vancouver, a good neighborhood without the upper class snarkiness or lower class dirtiness. Of course, that was just what I got from looking at the place. Living in it was going to be a much different story. It always was.

As planned we dropped by some of the markets in the five hundreds to buy and sell. I was amazed to find that omni-tools could scan and copy any file from any device no matter how old, so long as it understood the language and coding. I was able to keep all of the songs and albums I had obtained over the years on my new holographic wrist watch/computer/phone. The omni-tool's sheer awesomeness was a great distraction but just after a day of settling into our new place, the reality of our situation reeled back in.

Everyone kept to the themselves. We still cracked the occasional joke and figured out how to put up a holographic screen for games, shows or "Vids" as they were dubbed here, but it all felt forced, like we were blocking ourselves from the real problem. I knew that this wasn't going to last forever, I just didn't know when it would end.

The brief conversation I had with Josh about what happened at the factory district was all that was ever mentioned about it. I agreed with his view but it still bugged me, not so much because of who the Krogan was but how the police would handle it. There had to be reports of shots being fired and someone had to have seen us around that area. Nobody was there when we cleaned up and there was no body or physical evidence for them to find but I was still scared. I was not a paranoid person yet I couldn't help but feel nervous whenever I heard sirens in the distance or saw policeman.

Then there was the matter of money. The credits would cover us for a while but it wouldn't be long until we'd have to make some income. We figured that with seven of us it wouldn't be that difficult. Besides, sitting around and moping all day didn't seem like a healthy way of living. That just left the task of actually finding a job. It's not that there was a lack of work, this was the galactic station for crying out loud, but since this was the future and a universe with its own rules and regulations, I didn't know what I was going to do. I couldn't edit videos, not unless there was Sony Vegas Pro 175. People told me that I was good back when I did video reviews on YouTube, maybe I could get voice work training, or try to join a gaming outlet, whatever video games were like here. I was a Wikipedia back home when it came to games, now all of that information was useless and I wasn't going to go out and tell my story, not unless I wanted to sound like the next Alex Jones. I didn't know what to do, so I decided to scout for temporary work while I tried to find something more viable.

To save space on the station, buildings often connected to each other on the Citadel. In our case, it was a supermarket, the key word being "super". It was like a fucking cathedral. On April 2nd, 2181, I got the idea that would change my life. Whether it was a good idea is debatable.

I was walking down an aisle, talking with a manager that worked at one of the Walmart equivalents. He had plenty of slots open for new employees and told me that I could be working there tomorrow if I made the call. I told him that I would think about it. I'm sure that there's one unique person somewhere that would really want to work in a supermarket but that person wasn't me. The manager went back to wherever while I decided to pick up a few things, my cereal supply was running low again.

"Excuse me, Sir," said a voice behind me.

I turned around to see an older woman, nearing her sixties I guessed.

"You're tall, could you please get that for me?" She pointed toward a box of corn flakes on the top shelf. Yes they still made those.

"Sure," I said, grabbing the bottom of the box and handing it to her. I had been in this situation before but never felt the need to be a dick about it. If you can help out your fellow human being, why not?

"Thank you so much, kind Sir."

It hit me that the only people that ever called me "Sir "were old people. Shouldn't it be the other way around?

"No problem."

Normally that was when the two of us would just go back to minding our own business but she kept staring at me.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Oh, I apologize. You just look a lot like my son."

"I hope that's a good thing,"

She chuckled. "Yes, it is. Though you do look just as tired."

"What does that mean?"

"Oh, nothing. He just signed up for the C-Sec training course."

"Really? How old is he?"

"Eighteen."

"Eighteen? Isn't that a little young to become a cop?"

"A long time ago sure but apparently they're looking for new recruits. I saw on the news that they're experiencing a shortage of officers."

"That sounds...interesting."

"Well, I better get going, sorry to bother you."

"It's okay."

We nodded and took our separate routes through the store, never to cross paths again. I had paid for my cereal and headed to the new home with a feeling that I hadn't felt in a long time. Purpose.

* * *

"I've got an idea," was the first thing out of my mouth as I entered the joint apartments. Seated on the couch facing our amazing holographic screen, everyone looked confused.

"C-Sec."

"What?" asked Paul. Voicing for the rest of the group.

"Citadel Security aka The Police are looking for recruits, including humans that are as old as eighteen."

"And you want to join them?"

"I don't...maybe."

"You're insane."

"Well thanks for the support buddy."

"No, really, you are crazy. You want to become a police officer after just two weeks of being here?"

"We're going to have to find work soon enough, might as well start sooner rather than later."

"That's not what you were conveying before."

"Yeah well, things have changed."

He didn't respond, instead opting to stand up and get something from the fridge.

"Think about it," I continued to pitch the others. "Once we get past the training we'll be set. Even if it's just standing around all day and arguing with dumbass citizens, it'll still pay a lot better than working at a fucking supermarket."

"And what if standing around suddenly gets turned into getting shot at?" asked Terran.

"Last I checked, people don't just start shooting cops at random."

"That's not what I'm even talking about. I'm saying that your job will always have the possibility of getting you killed."

I wanted to say "It's not like I've got anything to lose" but I knew that wasn't true. Still, I didn't want to just sit here. I needed to do something! "Shea, come on. Don't tell me you don't want in on this. You've always acted like you're on a fucking death wish, why not channel it to some good?"

Shea was trying to hide his expression but I could see through it. He was fidgety to say the least for the past two weeks, he needed to do something just as much as me. I joked that he would make a great Jackass member, because he simply doesn't give a shit.

"Josh? Wouldn't you be all over this?"

"Wouldn't you have to go through learning the justice system?" he asked.

"I did some digging. Since they're desperate for new recruits, they simply add the training in their core program. Anyone can enter, provided that they pass of course."

"And what if you fail?"

I didn't have an answer for that because I hadn't even thought about it. What if I did fail? Would I get to try again? Would I be banned forever? The questions in my head kept pouring in until...

"I'm in."

Everyone including me looked at Shea. I smirked as the look on Terran suggested he wasn't very surprised.

"When do we sign up?"

"We can head down to the Academy tomorrow if we want. I'm not budging on this."

Tension filled the air as the silence spread.

"Fine, I'll go too," said Josh.

"Same," Bjorn nodded.

"Seriously?" asked Paul. "Well, I'm not that easy. I'm not joining out of peer pressure."

"You get to fly police cruisers."

"I'm in."

I laughed.

"Wow, you are such a dickhead," said Phil.

"So are you in too?" I asked.

"Sure, fine. I guess I'll go."

All eyes shifted to Terran. I tried to give my best encouraging look but I knew that wasn't going to work.

"Maybe. Not now though. I need some time."

I could've given him shit for it but I held back. Doing that wasn't going to change anything, it'd only make things worse. The next day, we left Terran sleeping on his bed to head down and catch a rapid transport. Entering the coordinators for the C-Sec Academy. I never thought I'd do something like this in my life, but there was a lot of things I thought that changed. _It's only after we've lost everything are we free to do anything. _Only then did I really know the truth in that statement.

**Now Playing : Chevelle - A New Momentum**

* * *

**Authors Note : I would talk about stuff here but there's not much to talk about. Got another chapter of this story finished and also completed Bioshock Infinite in one day over four play sessions. It's what I wanted from the first Bioshock with a fantastic story and great characters (Elizabeth is one of the best female characters I've seen in quite some time). As always, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and thanks for reading! PEACE.**


	4. Chapter 4 : The Grid

**Mass Affect : Revised Edition**

**Chapter 4 ****: The Grid**

**June 5th, 2181**

**11:45 AM, Citadel Time**

**C-Sec Academy, Zakera Ward**

We had seen our share of amazing sights, the Citadel Security Academy was no exception. It was the size of hundreds, if not thousands of precincts combined. I was nervous during our elevator ride down. I knew the cops weren't going to be waiting with their weapons raised, yelling, "You're under arrest!" but my paranoia made me pessimistic. One long line up and signed form later we entered the C-Sec training course. The turian behind the desk - still getting used to that - said that our training would start next week, in the meantime we had to get a check-up. Seeing as how we didn't want any questions raised, we had to find a doctor willing not to ask any, which meant finding one that had no relation to C-Sec what so ever.

I could tell that the doctor we hired had more than his fair share of wonders but, everyone has their price and at nearly a thousand credits the doc decided to keep his mouth shut. Now I didn't have a massive liking for most doctors but I think I spoke for everyone when I said "Best check up ever". All of our conditions were easily remedied. Phil and Shea no longer had to resort to glasses or contacts, I no longer had to do with my dry skin or messed up hearing and acne, was non existent. I was wondering why everyone in this universe seem looked like they bathed in moisturizers. Seeing the doctor also closed a certain case for us. The itching in our throats was due to the translators that the citizens of the galactic community get after a certain age, four in the case of humans.

With a feeling of money well-spent, the week after was the start of our training. The course would cover a little bit of everything to appeal to as many recruits as possible. On the first day though, something was rather fishy. There were thousands of recruits so the training had multiple teachers spread across the Academy. Thankfully, Josh, Bjorn, Paul, Phil, Shea and myself were under the same class, but out of all our fellow students - and there were a lot - only six were turians. It wasn't long until rumors were spreading about the real reason for the recruitment pleas. C-Sec for the longest time was dominated by nothing but turians and the Council wanted diversity. The rumors started after a couple of people overheard a heated conversation from C-Sec's representative, Executor Pallin. The games didn't reveal very much about Pallin seeing as how he had nothing to do with the main story but this was now our reality and I wanted to learn more about my soon-to-be boss. Then there was the training itself.

"It hurts like shit to begin with but once you get used to it, it's fun."

"Really? 'Cause for me it just hurts like shit."

That exchange between Phil and Paul pretty much summed up what the training was like. Some of us liked it. Some of us didn't. I was in the latter group. The days were always the same. Wake up at six, go to the Academy, run on the track, work out, fire guns, write a test, fire more guns or practice hand to hand combat and then come back and crash. My least favorite was the test. I hated it for the same reason I hated written tests back home. Adults always make the excuse that these tests are supposed to "prepare" you for a real world, yet most contained questions or answers no one in their right mind would consider, ranging from painfully obvious to overly complicated.

While I may have hated the running and workouts at the beginning, I agreed with Paul that it got better after a while. Josh had a head start and none of us were Special Forces but within a month of training I was in the best shape I had ever been. My arms didn't look like a layer of skin wrapped around bone, yay! Which meant having to get new shirts to accommodate the size, boo!

Unfortunately, C-Sec liked to keep everyone's ego in check. The teachers were never the same for more than four days, most were turians but there was also the occasional human, salarian or asari. I mention this because a teacher would do one of three things to keep the students getting too cocky. One, they would be the size of bears. Two, they'd pick a random student to fight him/her or three, both. On the same day I noticed that I'd shed all my fat, I was summoned to the sparring ring with an Ex-N2 marine. My face had come to appreciate the magic of medi-gel.

I most looked forward to the shooting range. For or against, we all agree guns hold an awesome amount of power. Not surprisingly, they started us off with pistols, graduating us to SMG's, assault rifles, shotguns and sniper rifles later. I may have had hunting in my family bloodline but that didn't stop me from being horrible on my first try. Paul's experience with Airsoft and Paintball didn't much help him much either. But by the end of the first month we were making holes with the pistol and SMG like nobody's business. The second month of assault rifles and shotguns were great too, watching a target imploded by a shotgun blast was incredibly gratifying.

While the shooting range was fun, the teachers had to force us to do some hand-to-hand training. While you could practice with the bag, the teachers were adamant that you fight with one of the other students. No simulator in the galaxy can properly evoke a true one-on-one fight. There were multiple sparring rings yet the one in the corner always contained the most onlookers and it was the one that Bjorn dominated. I wasn't surprised. I didn't know how to piss off Bjorn enough to make him want to hurt you and I had no intention of finding out. Every Friday students and teachers would gather at Bjorn's ring where he would fight Shea. It was all part of a game that had been going on for years back home. One of Shea's life-long goals was to cause Bjorn some kind of physical pain, a goal that seemed doomed for failure.

The third and final month was when the training all started to come together. Scaling walls, whipping out guns, hitting a target dead on, coordinating with fellow soon-to-be officers. None of this stuff was easy but it was doable, and that's what was important. Shea and I jumped at the chance to learn the final weapon, the sniper rifle. Just like everything else it was a lot more difficult than it looked. However, the fact that bullets fired at light speed took away much of the challenge snipers of the past dealt with. Shea and I would hold competitions every time the weapon was given to us, the winnings 50/50.

In the last two weeks less time was spent at the ranges and rings in favor of the simulations. Officers would be given two weapons and a vest to simulate hits against their shields or armor. The courses ranged from small scale to big shoot-outs, holograms for targets. The last day's simulation involved us fighting our way through an enemy stronghold to stop a drug bust but I had a feeling that real ones weren't this chaotic, or scary...I hoped. The stronghold was laid out like an old fashioned factory with an upper level filled with catwalks and a ground floor full of containers for shipping. Plus we had a time limit.

Shea, Josh and myself headed up.

"We've only got two minutes left!" shouted Paul over the communicator.

"We're almost inside, just hold up!" I replied.

"Like we haven't already been doing that!"

We had our backs placed against the wall outside, next to the top floor's door. I kept my Semi-Auto sniper in hand.

"I'll open the door, you two take point, I'll scope out any hostiles."

"I'm guessing we don't fire as long as it's not necessary?" asked Shea.

"Isn't that what we've done in the last dozen ops?" Josh retorted.

I hit the door's hologram, the wall of metal retracted allowing my friends to enter, assault rifles in hand. I followed, looking down the main catwalk, sniper's scope zoomed out as far as possible. The entrance led to three basic paths, forward, left and right. Looking over the railing we could see the forces below pinning down our other team. Something looked off. At the far end of the plant a salarian carried a case. Our goal was to stop this drug bust and the salarian looked like the man who illustrated the deal.

"You two try to flank the hostiles below. You can take them down once the other team moves in."

"What are you doing?"

"Going to take down their leader!" I was already running.

I headed down the right path. I could see it led to another door on the other side of the factory. It was only vaguely in the same direction as the salarian on the run but it would have to do. I heard from other recruits that it was actually impossible to finish everything in this op, there simply wasn't enough time. It was designed to test how much a team of officers could accomplish. I figured in a real situation, taking down the king pin was worth a lot more then erasing a bunch of conformist pricks.

I rushed out the door and entered a deck overlooking the open alleyway below. The salarian was a quick little bugger, already at the other end of the dirty path. I couldn't catch him if I ran after him. Plus I was about fifteen to twenty feet above ground. With no other option available, I brought my rifle scope up, tweaked the sights, my right eye focusing as I placed the reticule on the fleeing suspect. I pulled the trigger.

He instinctively raised his arms as he heard the shot, just as the bullet hit the ground. I fired another round but it was too late; he banked left and was out of the alleyway. I wanted to slam my weapon against something, vent my anger but I cursed instead. I rushed back inside the warehouse just in time for my omni-tool to beep loudly, to watch everything in the environment except my friends and I freeze. I let my weapon rest in my right hand as I sighed and wiped sweat off my forehead.

"Operation is over, everybody head back to the elevator," announced a voice on the loudspeaker.

When we were outside the environment started fade away until it showed a white canvas. I was sure that I had seen an area like this in the first game. Turns out that this used to be a traffic control area but there was a new one built only a few years ago. Rather than demolish the old one, they just re-purposed it. Now it was meant to give programmers the ability to create any battlefield scenario. There were rumors going around that some of the more unforgiving Turians vented their anger about the First Contact War - or the Relay 314 incident as they called it - by recreating battles from that war. I wasn't sure whether to be scared or happy that they were venting on holograms.

One long ass elevator ride later and we were back inside the spectators post revealing a right wall that was covered end to end in what ever computing technology was used to make the simulations. It wasn't just an omni-tool, I could say that much. In the middle of the space programmers sat at their terminals while the next room contained spectators, officers that had already passed the Academy. Fellow students weren't allowed to watch simulations from above for some reason, no idea why. I recognized someone that I and so many others had remembered back from when this was all a game. He was tall, experienced and not very Turian as he always went against the rules. Constantly pulled aside by the Executor. That's what happens when you're caught drinking on the job.

"Pleasure doing business, Harkin," said one of the humans in the group, holding up a credit chit.

"Laugh it up, asshole," said the prick I had met a few times. Just my luck right? Who do I meet in my time here? Garrus? No. Wrex? No. Shepard? No. Stupid drunk that doesn't ever shut up? Yes!

"Have you ever thought of not betting on something, Harkin?" I asked.

There was no need to ask the programmers if we passed or not. Harkin never supported any of the students.

"Go fuck yourself, kid," he spat as he walked past me.

"Whatever you say, baldy."

He held up a middle finger and walked off. We waited until he was out of sight before heading down. Students were told to head to the main floor which contained three things; the lobby, the investigators office and the Executor.

* * *

It was a good thing omni-tools were so versatile. If I wasn't able to use mine as a holographic ereader my two hour long wait in the lobby would have been unbearable. I felt like I was waiting for Half Life 2 : Episode Three. Thankfully being able to find a site with a wide selection of novels, coupled with download speeds that were literally faster than light pushed away the possibility of death by boredom.

"Mr, Raycevich?" a turian said from the desk lobby desk. It was still weird as hell for me to hear someone call me "Mr".

"Yeah?"

"Executor Pallin is ready to see you."

I nodded and stood up. The rest of the group didn't bat an eye and rested in their chairs.

"Wish me luck," I said.

"Fag," muttered Paul.

"Asshole."

"Bitch."

I didn't respond since I was already too far away. _You win this time, but the battle rages on. _The Executor's place was a big square space in the corner of the Investigator's office. I stepped to the office's door and entered a place littered with turians, typing keyboards and chatting. I spotted the Executor's office and walked toward it. The detectives didn't pay me any attention as they were probably used to recruits walking through here and most likely had better things to worry about. I was told that this is where the real cases were worked on. It was interesting to see that many many people so focused on the job.

I automatically came to a halt when I saw a cubicle with two name tags on it. One said _Det. Ian Shaw_, whoever the fuck that was. I didn't care, what was more interesting was what was next to it, _Det. Garrus Vakarian_. _Holy shit!_ _I'm standing right next to Garrus fucking Vakarian's desk! Too bad he's not here though. Not that it even matters, it's not like I could go and ask for his autograph. Well I could but I would also be put in an asylum...what was I doing again? Oh yeah, Executor's office!_

It wasn't long before I was standing behind the door. I closed my eyes and breathed out. I didn't have a plan. Normally I would just be myself and react like I always do but this was my first real interview. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the boss of a security force wouldn't want to deal with a naive and argumentative dumb recruit. _Who am I kidding? I'm fucked. _So with the confidence of a fat man on a pogo-stick, I took a step forward and opened the door to reveal Executor Pallin in the flesh. Actually I'm not sure if that turn of phrase applies to turians but whatever.

"Mr. Raycevich," he said in his gruff, flanged voice. While I couldn't say anything for this guy's attitude, I couldn't deny that his face tattoo's made him look like a badass.

"Please, have a seat."

I complied. I could tell by his delivery that he practiced the line multiple times. He definitely wouldn't be up for any Oscar's..

"So, may I ask why you're here?"

_Okay, just be yourself. See how it works. _"Well, I was asked here by..." I stopped when he gave me a look that would make Dirty Harry shit himself. _Okay, clearly he doesn't like myself. Abort! _"I'm here because my options were to become a store clerk at a shitty market near my apartment or become a cop and in the best case scenario actually help people." Technically I was still being myself, but skipping the shenanigans and just being my honest self, even if I could only keep that act going for so long.

"Okay. Was being a C-Sec officer something you have thought about before?"

_Only in my dreams where there was no paperwork and "Cop" meant "Unstoppable badass". _"No. I was from Earth and I never really thought about being a cop there let alone on the Citadel."

He nodded and looked down at a datapad on the table. "It says here you don't have much family."

I looked down. I didn't need to pretend that I was affected. "I don't have any family."

"So no family ties to any of this?"

"No. One of my mother's friends was a parole officer but that's about as close as it gets."

He nodded again. "It also says that you only came to the Citadel a few months ago. Why did you move from Earth?"

"Too be frank, I've got no idea. Just one day, I end up here with my friends."

"You and five others correct?"

"Yeah. How did you know that?"

"It's clear from how often you all leave here at the exact same time in many cases that you know each other."

"Could just be a coincidence," I joked.

He gave me the stern look again, as if he was examining how tasty my head would be on a stick. Did I mention turian teeth are terrifying at the correct angle? No? Well they were, especially when he was looking at me.

"Mr. Raycevich. I've got hundreds if not thousands of other humans like yourself in this Academy. Teachers say that they just want the job for the power. Why should I trust you with this job and not think that you'll be kicked off this force by the end of the month?"

_He's testing me, see if I get angry. I am, but I'm not going to show him that. _"Well, first off, the fact you've got other humans doesn't have anything to do with trusting me since I'm not them. Second, realistically, you can't trust me at the moment because passing the Academy only surmises that I can do this job, it doesn't prove it. Now that's the same outcome regardless of species so I'm guessing you probably don't trust any of your new recruits. All I can say is the that if I'm being this honest in a job interview how do you think I'd approach my job?"

Surprised, he tried to keep his face neutral and just stared, trying to make me feel uncomfortable. _When is this guy going to realize that I don't fall for his bullshit?_

Without saying a word he reached for something under his desk and moved it across the table in his hand. It was a badge. Some things never change. I reached for it but he moved it out of my reach again.

"One more thing. You may think you know everything but know this. You screw up at all and I'll have you behind a desk within the day. Understood?"

Hearing a rule from a person as intimidating as the Executor really makes you think it through. "Yes, Sir."

He slid the badge across the table and let me hold it. I looked at it and raised my eyebrows when I saw the blank column below the officer sign.

"Head back to the front desk and get your number signed. Welcome to C-Sec, Officer Raycevich."

I stood up from the chair. "Please, Sir. Call me Lucas."

His face didn't emote his "stern" look but it was pretty close close enough for me to want to get out of there.

"Thank you, Sir," I said over my shoulder before closing the door.

**Now Playing : Daft Punk - The Grid (The Crystal Method Remix)**

* * *

**I hope that I haven't just skipped over everything too quickly. I just wanted to focus more on the actual police job instead of the training. So yeah, policeman not detectives. This was pretty much the main thing I wanted to change since it just seemed to make a lot more sense than all of them becoming full on detectives just like that. Also, I have decided to try and start a new series on my youtube page and already completed the first episode, you can watch it here - www . youtube watch?v=LD1RztYqGHg (Remove spaces). Other than that, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and thanks for reading, PEACE.**


	5. Chapter 5 : Lost in Life

**Mass Affect : Revised Edition**

**Chapter 5 : Lost in Life**

**June 17th, 2181**

**10:40 PM, Citadel Time**

**Berox Banking, Zakera Ward**

**(Paul)**

"This is ridiculous!" said Phil.

"It's called opening an account which you should've done weeks ago like everybody else," I replied.

"Well _sorry_ for not doing this at the exact same time you did."

"I know that you're the worst when it comes to debts, but this is crazy."

"What are you talking about? I'm not that bad at paying debts!"

"Yes you fucking are!"

"No I'm not!"

"Yes you are!"

"No!"

"Have you payed me back for Warhammer yet?"

"Why are you still keeping track of that shit!"

"Because you haven't fucking payed me back!"

"Excuse me-_hiss_-Earth Clan."

We stopped arguing to look at the clerk, silence settling between us as an argument between another clerk and a young Quarian took center stage. Standing at around three to four feet, covered head to toe in his required suit, our tiny Volus clerk slipped a datapad and a holo-point pen across the counter.

"Just sign here." He gestured to the bottom of the on-screen page, and hissed again. Phil signed.

"And here."

Phil signed again.

"And here."

Phil signed.

"And here."

_Jesus fucking Christ._

* * *

**(Lucas)**

It was our second week on the job and my God was it dull. Granted it wasn't like that at first, we got to fly around in a car or walk around all day and get paid for it. I never had a full license back home so piloting was pretty scary but actually easier than a regular car, due to an effective autopilot function, firstly. Secondly, the thing contained more assists than a Japanese automobile so that pretty much anybody could use it.

But the novelty quickly wore off and soon enough we found out that most of our days would be spent driving around Zakera, walking around Zakera or sitting around Zakera. We got an occasional call about some asshole pissing off another asshole who's pissed off at the other asshole about something really stupid. Though it was better than getting shot at. Also, it paid better than our other options and we could be on duty while hanging out at the Mako's Cafe. Yes I know, the name made me raise an eyebrow too but, the place was pretty awesome. We usually met up to chat about the morning's shenanigans. We were separated into pairs just like the days of old but allowed us to pick partners. With six of us, it was perfectly even. The pairs were Paul and Phil, Shea and Josh and Bjorn and myself, the Viking and I the being first to arrive. Bored, we played chess on a bored projected by an Omni-tool. Shea and Josh were late while Paul and Phil were across the street at some bank trying to open an account or some shit.

I moved my king for the eighth time in a row as Bjorn's queen hunted it down with a vengeance. I could've make a wrong move at any time and lose as I was completely fucked but I wanted to see how long I could keep this going. It's not like I had anything else to do.

"Oh my God!" said Bjorn.

"I could do this shit all day!"

"You're going to die anyway. Why do you keep doing this?"

"I'll stop if you buy me a cookie!"

"No."

"Buy me a cookie!"

"No."

"Then I'm not going to stop."

I made my next move and looked up at the door opening, revealing Shea and Josh. It was weird to see them walking around in futuristic blue and black C-Sec clothes. Then again, I'm sure it looked just as weird on me. They came over. Only when I looked back at the board did I realize that I screwed up.

"Aha!" exclaimed Bjorn as he killed my King. The over-the-top death animation played out in perfect time for the others to see.

"Fuck you."

"Why is it that you can't bullshit people when guns aren't involved?" Shea asked me.

"Why couldn't you figure out when lunch time is?"

"Well I'm still getting used to twenty hour clocks for one thing and two, I think it's better left for Josh to tell."

They took a seat at the table. I couldn't blame Shea about the clock. Having your normal daily clock of 60 minutes and 24 hours changed to 20 hours and 100 minutes does fuck with your head.

"What happened?"

"We had got a call about some smell in a highrise building," said Josh. "We were near the place so we answered it. When we got there we ring the bell. no one answers. So we get the door's code number, open it and immediately wanted to fucking puke. Turned out that the old lady that lived there was dead and the corpse was starting to rot."

"Jesus."

"I know," said Shea. "So we call it in. She didn't have any marks on her so she probably died of natural causes. Just when we are about to leave it to the team, suddenly these investigator dicks show up..."

"And proceed to give chastise us for having the audacity to call in a dead body and told us that we couldn't leave until they were sure of the cause of death."

"When did this happen?" I asked.

"Oh about, eight thirty."

"They held you up for two fucking hours?"

"We only just got off the hook, the place is like five blocks from here."

"Bull. Fucking. Shit," Shea said.

I laughed. "Be thankful for those shoes." I gestured. They gave out standard issue footwear to all humans and they were crazy comfy!

"I know right?"

"But dude, that's not even the best part," said Josh excitedly.

"Oh, don't fucking tell them about that."

"Tell it!" Bjorn and I chimed.

"Okay. So we told them about how she must've died from old age and the second investigator - they were both Turians FYI - looks at us and says, 'How do you know that?' So we explained because she doesn't have any marks on her, you know. After that, he gives us this pissed off look and says 'Did you mess up my crime scene?' and I said 'No, of course not'. Then Shea says, 'What, did you get handed divorce papers or something?'."

"No way," I said.

"Fucking yes way!"

The three of us burst out laughing while Shea looked like the guilty kid. Funny considering he always used to devour all of my bags of chips...and still does.

"You should've seen his face man," said Shea. "I will never get that image out of my head. Face like fucking thunder doesn't describe it."

Turians were known as the organized species, which also crept its way into marriages. Apparently, divorces were extremely rare among Turians, at least until humans arrived and some Long story short, some Turians really don't like that.

"Now I know why I heard so many jokes about them during training."

"How do you know when a Turian's out of ammo?" asked Josh at the mention.

I knew this one. "He switches to the stick up his ass as a back up weapon." I smiled and looked across the street to see Paul and Phil in the bank, still sitting across the counter. "How long can they take?"

"When did they start?"

"Let's just say that they're later than you and leave it at that."

"It didn't take that long when I did it."

"Me neither."

The conversation between the others went on while I stared, taking in another view of this world that I was slowly getting used to, key word being "slowly". Oddly, four Turians walked across the street in full body armor. Then again, it wasn't completely obscene. Citizens could get permits allowing them to wear armor and carry weapons, though most of the people that got them were mercenaries so the government was inadvertently helping fund terrorists and gangs. That or they just didn't care, probably the latter.

I took a sip from my hot chocolate - I wasn't a coffee drinker – as the Turians entered the bank. I dropped my drink when I saw them equip their helmets and pull out fully automatic weapons.

* * *

**(Paul)**

_What the..._

"Everybody get down on the ground!" a flanged voice yelled out before the Turian aimed his weapon at the ceiling. I instinctively ducked behind the wall, as did Phil, the civilians inside the bank shell shocked, their screams almost as loud as the weapon fire. The four Turians were smart enough to wear helmets, visors tinted.

"This is a robbery! Don't try anything stupid and no one will get hurt!"

With the Turian in red armor gaining all of the attention, I hadn't noticed the one in black next to us.

"Get on you're fucking feet!" commanded a voice though it took me a second to realize it was a female Turian, confirmed by the slim armor. But she was about as feminine as a kick in the nuts, she grabbed me by the back of my shirt and shoved me to the middle of the bank where the other robbers were gathering the civilians and security guards turned hostages.

"I'm fucking going! Jesus!" I said as she shoved me a second time. I dropped to my knees next to the citizens I was supposed to protect.

"You too, white boy!" she said, grabbing Phil and throwing him to the floor next to me. If I said I wasn't scared shitless, I'd be lying.

* * *

**(Lucas)**

The four of us were out of Mako's like convicts in a prison entire body was feeling like it did when we first arrived in this universe. I hadn't felt the same sense of panic since then and it wasn't something I longed for. People on the street acted like rabbits in headlights, frozen, unable to comprehend what was happening.

"Run, call C-Sec, now!" yelled out Josh.

I unwrapped my pistol from its holster and had it ready, just like my training taught me. I opened my mouth to call out Paul and Phil as we ran up the bank's stairs. That was when we were greeted by one of the Turians looking at us dead in the eyes.

"C-Sec!" the one yelled out.

I stared at the assault rifle's barrel with wide eyes before ducking down and taking cover behind the stair case. I quickly crawled over to the side, the stairs were too open. I placed my back against the wall, panting, my body shaking from adrenaline. The simulators had done a poor job of portraying what it felt like to get shot at. I activated my Omni-tool and reached out to Dispatch.

"This is Officer Raycevich, badge 102394. I've got four Turians at the Berox Bank locking the building down and taking hostages. They're armed with automatic weapons and full body armor, we need back up at my location immediately!"

There was no dirty radio static to match the ugly situation. All that came in was a crystal clear reply. "Copy that 102394, we have back up on-route, ETA five minutes."

"Be advised that we have two officers in the bank as well."

"Copy that."

The idea of storming it came to mind but I didn't follow through. It may have been four on four but it was like a pack of bulls against a couple high strung dogs. In reality, there was no way for us to take them down with what we had. They would pulp us to red paste the second we enter. I reminded myself that exciting situations were worse than boring ones.

* * *

**(Paul)**

"Discard your weapons!" yelled the girl with a gun.

I had a feeling our compliance was going to go on longer than we liked. Phil and I slowly pulled the guns out of our holsters, dropped them on the ground and kicked them across the floor. I winced at the loud echo the deadly tool emitted when it hit the leg of the counter.

"Don't do anything stupid."

"Like I don't already know..."

"Shut your fucking mouth!" she raised her weapon at Phil's head. My friend shuddered when he saw it but didn't say a word. Satisfied, the Turian walked away to meet up with her group.

"Good fucking job!" I hissed.

"What?" replied Phil.

"I'd like to think that a gun would change your fucking attitude!"

"Well it did, didn't it!"

I sighed and looked outside. The door had been shut but it was windowed and on the other side I could see a tiny bit of a familiar head. I gestured at Lucas. If he and the others came in now we'd all be dead. He nodded at me before disappearing again. I turned back to see the rest of the people that were gathered around us, everyone ranging from a Quarian to the Volus that was "helping" us earlier. We had gone from cops with the power of enforcing the law to being just like them, the only difference being a now useless badge in my pocket.

"The building is locked down. We're set," said one of the robbers in silver armor. He was next to another in blue who hadn't uttered a word.

"Good. Mal, start cranking the safe boxes," said their leader.

"Yes Sir," replied "Mal", he was the one in silver.

"Boss, I think you need to see this," said the female.

I gulped as I saw that she was making her way over to Phil and I.

"See what?"

The hostages had their eyes on us as the woman in black stood behind us, her hand in my pocket, assault rifle pressed against the back of my neck. I gulped again, my blood pressure having a riot. It only increased when she found what she was looking for and went over to Phil, obtaining his duplicate badge we both had withheld. The robber walked over to her boss and showed him what she'd found. I could tell they were both smirking behind their helmets. The boss looked at the two of us coldly. It was in the way he moved, the way that his pistol dangled in his hand, like he couldn't care less if it went off and hit something.

Before I knew it, he was standing in front of us. I looked up at his towering figure as he stared.

"I hope for your sake that your friends let us go. Because if they don't, you two will be the last I kill."

**Now Playing : Kattoo - Lost in Life**


	6. Chapter 6 : Somewhere in Between

**Mass Affect : Revised Edition**

**Chapter 6 : Somewhere in Between**

**June 17th, 2181**

**1:10PM, Citadel Time**

**Berox Banking, Zakera Ward**

**(Lucas)**

It wasn't long before the cavalry came. We managed to retreat from the bank's outside staircase. There was no possible way to advance without it being suicide. I was wondering if the robbers would do anything about the glass door. My answer came when the thing suddenly blurred, making a clear view impossible. The first few units that arrived were fellow patrol officers but it wasn't long before Special Response showed up. SR was something that I had never heard about until we applied for training at C-Sec.

Apparently, if you wanted to you could keep training for another few months to get enlisted for Special Response. As you might have guessed by the title, they handled tasks not taken by regular investigators. Their presence didn't surprise me. Bank robberies back home weren't common due to their low success rate and that statistic had only dwindled in the past hundred and seventy years, especially since thanks to wonders of modern technology, we didn't use cash anymore. Banks are mainly used as meeting places and for storing valuables in safety deposit boxes.

I saw a black shuttle land on the ground, its large size made our standard police cruisers look like the Volus of vehicles. The doors opened to reveal a grizzled crew of fully armored troops of all races, the leader, a towering Turian taking point had a Lieutenant symbol on his suit. He walked and talked liked he owned the place.

"Who's in charge here!" he said to the four of us, just outside the bank.

"I was the one that called this in, Sir," I replied moving off of the police cruiser to stand in front of him.

"And you are?"

"Officer Raycevich, Sir."

"Lieutenant Arron. What can you tell me about this situation, Officer?"

I raised an eyebrow. "You didn't get the intel I gave in my call?"

He looked displeased by my excessive tone.

"We were just called in about a hostage rescue. It's hard to believe it's a bank robbery."

"Why?"

"Because we haven't had one on this station in years. I was a rookie when the last one happened."

"How did that go down?"

"The robbers were just some psychopaths with a death wish."

"And what happened to the hostages?" asked Bjorn. It was the first thing any of the three said since the robbery. A wave of concern hit me when the Lieutenant remained silent, a look of regret on his face. _It's nice to know our first contact with SR isn't a complete prick._

Not wanting to think about Paul and Phil's chance of survival, I told the Lieutenant everything we knew, that the four robbers were Turian, that they were well armed, well equipped and knew what they were doing. Arron reminded me that most Turians go through the military and end up picking up a few things along the way.

"Sir," a new voice called out, directed at the Lieutenant. It was another Turian, dressed in the same SR get up. "Our two teams are ready as is the command post."

"Good work, Corporal." Arron then started to move ahead.

Not knowing what to do we followed to a folded out table, equipped with multiple terminals. I recognized what was on their screens, everything from listening devices to hacking programs. We learned about it during training but it was hardly my strong suit.

"Have we got those cameras back online?" asked the Lieutenant.

"No, Sir. We're still working on it."

"So what's our next move, Sir?" asked Josh.

"'_Our_ next move is to wait until we've got more intel on these guys. _Your_ next move is to guard the line to stop people getting through like any other cop."

This upset all of us, Shea was the first to speak up. "We've got several hostages - two of which are fellow cops - and you're telling us to just stand around?"

"I'm not telling, I'm ordering you," he stepped forward just before Shea was about to reply. "I know what it's like to have a friend in danger, but we're going to do everything we can to get them out safely. The best thing you can do is to let me do my job. You're all too close to this."

_I really hate it when someone else is right. _Reluctantly, we walked away from the post and headed to the police line filled with reporters and the kind of idiots that don't flee when they hear gun shots. I was about to say something when my Omni-tool started ringing. It was Terran.

"Hey, what's going on?" I asked.

"I heard about the bank robbery at Berox. Phil and Paul are okay right?"

_Shit. _I rubbed my eyes while I thought about what to say. "They're okay for now, but they are in that bank."

There was a pause. "You guys are going to get them out right?"

"We can't do much about it. We're just Officers. SR has taken over. All we can do is stand outside and watch."

"Is SR any good?"

"They better be fucking good. Look if anything happens I'll call you."

"Sure. Thanks, bye"

I hadn't heard from Terran in a while, hadn't seen him much either, despite living in the same building but I didn't bug him. He probably just needed some space to settle into our new lives though settling in is hardly an easy task when friends are trapped inside a bank with armed psychos.

* * *

**(Paul)**

I could hear voices echo in the distance. It was the leader and "Mal" talking about the safe deposit boxes. I couldn't catch much of the conversation but I did hear one of them mention that the cameras were offline. _Fantastic. Now the cops can't even see what the fuck they're doing. _I sighed. Now it was a given that the only way the cops would do anything is if our captors did something first.

The person sitting next to Phil was the young Quarian I briefly saw earlier, covered in her gray suit and teal visor, noticeably shaking.

"Hey," I said. She turned her head, looking terrified despite her masked face. "Relax and do as they say for now, the cops will get us through this."

She looked surprised and nodded. "Thanks. I-I just got out of C-Sec. Someone accused me of stealing something from a store I didn't even enter and I was pulled in for questioning. I came here to get something and now this."

I didn't know much about Quarians but I knew that they were treated like rats, all because their elders fucked up in the past. You'd think that would die off after three hundred years of exile from their home planet. But then again, with races like the Asari, three hundred years was nothing.

"Don't worry, C-Sec will get us out," I repeated. _Maybe some magic will happen if I keep saying it._

Phil bumped me on the shoulder and gestured ahead. I looked to see the leader returning. I held my breath but he wasn't coming for us. His target was the Volus clerk that was _helping_ us out earlier.

"Get up, fatty," said the leader.

The Volus looked around at us, his breathing pattern became frantic. The Turian leader grabbed him by the top of his helmet and started to drag him over to the bank's main terminal. He rested his weapon against the clerk's head.

"Enter the code for the last safe box now."

"No," replied the Volus.

Everyone gasped at the Volus. _Don't fucking do this. _

"Could you please repeat that?"

"I said *hiss* N..."

* * *

**(Lucas)**

I turned around as soon as I heard the three shots. I started to run toward the line of officers moving a few steps forward before being ordered to stop. I stopped behind them. I couldn't see beyond the door but I knew exactly what happened. Someone just died in there - no idea who - and all we could do was sit on our asses.

"What the fuck was that?" said Shea.

"Take a wild guess," replied Josh.

"Officers, get back right now!" said the familiar voice of Arron.

Once again we reluctantly left the fault line. The urge to just say fuck it and rush in was getting more tempting with each passing second. Unfortunately my logical part of the brain laid down the reasons such a maneuver would fail. I hated this shit. Why did I think being a cop was such a great idea? I knew it wasn't going to be like the movies so I why did I sign up? Why did I encourage my friends to sign up?

My Omni-tool beeped again. I sighed in relief, glad something was able to take my mind off of the "What if's". When I looked at the screen though, I became unnerved. The message didn't have a name or address, only a topic and a file.

_**Topic : This will probably help you**_

I cautiously hit the File icon. The download finished instantly and a screen came up. The angle and time stamp told me that it was from some security footage. My nerves became numb when I observed two people among a group of beings on the floor, Paul and Phil. Not only that, but the time stamp was live, matching the clock on my device. I realized I had the bank's security footage in my hand. I didn't know who got it, but it wasn't from a cop.

**Now Playing : Kattoo - Somewhere in Between **


	7. Chapter 7 : Speak

**Mass Affect : Revised Edition**

**Chapter 7 ****: Speak**

**June 17th, 2181**

**1:38 PM, Citadel Time**

**Berox Banking, Zakera Ward**

**(Paul)**

Everyone was shaken to the bone. The sheer lack of effort was what really horrified the hostages as well as myself. All the leader did was pull a trigger and just like that a Volus now laid on the floor in a pool of blood. The leader had their techie try to hack the box that the Volus stupidly gave his life for. Behind me stood the bitch Turian pacing around us like we were slaves and she was Queen. She knelt down to level her head with mine and Phil's.

"Let that be your motivation to do as we say, you sack of shit cops."

She spat the word "cops" the same way evangelicals spat "faggots". Something about the way these people were operating made me wonder. Turians were the military hard asses that follow orders and conduct? Okay. Then how can these four hate cops so much? I began to smell a rat. The look on Phil's face suggested he thought the same.

* * *

**(Lucas)**

"How is this possible?" asked Lieutenant Arron behind the Command Post.

I'd be asking the same thing but I've had much weirder shit happen so I didn't. "Hell if I know. All I know is that with the time stamps and footage, it's safe to say that this is the real security system coming from bank."

"That means whoever hacked into it is good. So why would they send it to you?"

"You do know that asking us these questions is pointless right?" asked Shea.

"We've got no idea," Josh confirmed. "Look, we've got live footage of what's going on, can't we use this intel to get ready for storming the place?"

The Lieutenant shook his head. "We can't charge in there just yet. We need to analyze our plan before we head in."

"They've already killed somebody while we sit out here doing nothing. We need to enter now!"

I couldn't help but feel relieved when the security footage showed that the person killed wasn't Paul or Phil. At the same time though, I also felt guilty for having some form of positivity over another man's death.

"You are not going anywhere until I say so, Officer."

Josh took a deep breath and did as he was told.

"Head to our shuttle and get whatever weapons you find. I need every C-Sec Agent here fully equipped to take on these guys."

* * *

**(Paul)**

_My ass is getting sore from sitting on this floor. Hey that rhymes! I should totally become a poet! You know, if I get out of this shit._ Trying to channel my thoughts to truly lesser worries wasn't working. Frankly my sore ass was the least of my concern. I'd take it over the bitch Turian's stare any day.

"Sir, the box is open!" called out Mal.

I could hear the slight hiss of an air tight container opening. I couldn't gather anything from the silenced that ensued. I wasn't sure if the leader was overjoyed or angry enough to kill Mal, or worse, one of us.

"Looks like you're getting that bonus after all, Mal," said the leader.

_Overjoyed it is._ His gain was a double edge sword for us.

"Eryc Vern!"

Everyone was startled by the loudspeaker coming from outside. _What the fuck are they doing?_

"This is Lieutenant Arron of Special Response. Have you and your crew come out of the bank with hands behind your head!"

The leader of the robbers stopped dead in his tracks. Staring out the blurred front entrance, everyone held their breath, waiting for his next action. _How did the Police figure out who he is? Did they already know?_ The leader - "Eryc" - was clearly wondering the same thing. He turned around and walked up toward Mal who had his hands up, backing his feet.

"Sir, I can..."

He didn't finish as Eryc slammed his face with the assault rifle. Mal went down to the floor in a blink, breathing heavily from the blow.

"How did they get into the security footage?" said Eryc, resting his weapon against Mal's forehead.

"I-I don't know!"

"Rhetorical question! You failed to properly assign your defenses!"

"I swear I didn't! I did everything you asked! They must've had someone else break into it!"

"Someone who is better than you!"

In unadulterated rage, Eryc shoved his weapon against Mal even further. The other two members of the crew didn't budge or say a word.

"Eryc Vern! Surrender you and your team right now or we will be forced to enter the building!" said the man on the loudspeaker, Arron I think it was.

Abruptly, Eryc took the rifle off of Mal's helmet but moved his face closer. If he was human, he would've been speaking through his teeth.

"Your payment is you get to live. When this is over, I never want to see your face again. Got it?"

Mal was shaking. "Y-yes, Sir."

Eryc then stood up and began to pace his way over to me, my blood started to boil. I was waiting for his hand to rake over my shoulder but it didn't happen. My anger elevated as he walked past me and grabbed Phil by the top of his head.

"Ow! Shit!" he shouted as Eryc dragged him to his feet.

"Shut the fuck up, fucking cop!" said the female Turian, leveling her weapon at his head.

"Let him go!" I yelled.

Eryc knelt down to my level, eyes piercing mine through his now useless helmet.

"Would you rather I take one of them instead?" he gestured to the crowd. The question caught me off guard. He got up before I could answer. "Didn't think so."

The girl began to drag Phil over to the front door. My mind was in a hyper active state of panic. Racing through the brain waves, searching for a solution to what an inconsiderate prick would call a problem. If I didn't do something Phil was going to die. If I did do something, one if not multiple others were going to die. Others I was bound by law to protect.

"Get your fucking hands off me!" protested Phil. Desperately trying to get an edge over the Turian in black.

I moved my feet to stand when their leader pressed his weapon against my forehead, just like he did to Mal. "Don't move."

"Fuck yourself, you piece of shit!" I hissed.

"Actually, make a move. I'd really like to kill..."

He stopped talking when a distinct smack was followed by an "Ompf". Everyone looked to see Phil barely standing on his two feet. The female Turian landed on her back on the ground. Phil ground his teeth from the wound visible on the back of his skull. Eryc raised his weapon at Phil. I didn't think, I just reacted. Lucas' excuse. I leaped from my kneeling position, tackling Eyrc to the floor. He fired a bullet just before his weapon fell out of his hands. The only hole it made was in the wall next to the door.

Only then was I reminded that Turians are usually ex-military. The reminder came in the form of a headbutt from Eryc instantly after my tackle. I was flung back by the force of it, my landing provided a brief glimpse at the silent robber of the group, aiming his weapon at me. I ignored the pain and went for Eyrc who was still recovering. There was no way the other robbers would take the chance of shooting their leader. This was chaos. The hostages were now running everywhere, either trying to get out of the building or to take cover.

Eryc and I were wrestling without rules. I started to feel more confident gaining an advantage only to take a hook to the jaw. Once again I was on my back and the Turian lashed out. He wrapped his hands around my neck. _Oh shit!_ I tried to do everything in my power to stop him from choking me but my strength was diminishing along with my oxygen levels. Just as my vision was starting to go gunshots were fired in rapid succession. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Phil shooting the Turian with her own weapon. He turned around before her body fell to the floor, firing more rounds at the silent bastard and Mal. Both of them raced for cover and made it before Phil could lay down a hit. He then turned to me and laid his sights on the target above me.

Then the entrance opened.

* * *

**(Lucas)**

Lieutenant Arron was behind two of his top agents when they entered the building. Bjorn, Josh, Shea and myself were behind them as well as another group of Special Response troops. We heard a shot go off while we were getting ready. I was wielding an M8-Avenger with my M-3 Predator Pistol in its holster. We were also given small vests that came with shielding superior to that of the belts C-Sec gave out to their agents. The other three had the same equipment. One of Arron's men hacked the entrance, I exhaled as the door retracted into the ceiling.

"Move up!" ordered the LT. "No civilian casualties!"

With the SR squad taking point, they entered first, their training on full display. Even with hostages in anarchy, two enemies taking cover, one dead on the floor and one fighting with another hostage, they charged in with ease, calm as the sunset. It took me a second before realizing that the dead person on the floor wasn't a hostage**. **It was the female of Eryc's crew. Phil was inside with a weapon and the hostage fighting with the Eryc was Paul.

I no longer cared about orders. Not that I did before but now it was to the point of ignoring them. Before anyone else could get a word in I rushed forward. With no choice, the others followed. Just as I entered, Paul kicked Eryc off him while the Turian was distracted by our presence. Paul scrambled backward until he was behind a lounge chair for cover. Eryc did the same in the opposite direction except Eyrc had a sub-machine gun.

I backed up and jumped behind the wall next to the bank's entrance. Bjorn was next to me and Shea and Josh were behind cover on the other side. I felt the force emitting from the bullets hitting the wall, shaking my bones like a bass speaker, yet another thing simulations couldn't properly replicate. I peeked around the corner when the shooting stopped, only to reel back again when the two robbers on the far end fired back. I caught a brief glimpse at Eryc as he was running toward them.

"You okay, Phil!" I shouted, my voice echoing off of the bullet ridden interior.

"Aside from having a gun shoved in my face for the past hour, can't complain much!" he replied.

"I'm okay by the way too!" added Paul

"Already knew that!" I jabbed. "You got a weapon?"

"No, of course not!"

"Here, one second!" I peeked around the corner to see exactly where my friend was.

I timed my throw, leaned out and tossed the weapon in my hands into the bank. It slid across the room toward Paul. As I retreated I saw the silent robber lining up his sights. I may have had shields but I didn't trust them. The Turian was about to pull the trigger before he suddenly dove back into cover, just in time to see bullets tear up his former location. Paul was holding a smoking assault rifle that had been in my hands moments before. While the other SR troops laid down more cover fire, I placed my back against the wall and pulled my pistol out of its holster.

"Thanks for that!" I said.

"No problem! I'm about to run dry with this thing though!"

"Same," yelled Phil.

"Here!" yelled Lieutenant Arron.

The LT reached to his side and pulled out two thermal clips, throwing one to his left and right. My friends caught their magazine turned life savers.

"They're retreating!" yelled Phil.

"No! They're escaping! They've probably got a getaway driver outside!" I said.

"We can't just let those bastards get away!" said Shea.

I peeked around the corner. The civilians had cleared the crossfire and taken cover, leaving a clear path to run up to the robbers who were leaving out the back.

"Let's go!" I said before charging out of cover.

"Are you doing what I think you're doing?" asked Josh.

I didn't slow down. Most of the SR squad was gathering the hostages, making sure they were in good health. I knew they noticed us; kind of hard to miss a group of graduates charging down the bank, half of them dressed like they were about to invade Poland.

"Officers, stay back!" the Lieutenant commanded. "Officers!" he barked when we didn't slow down.

_Sorry Sir, but fuck your orders. _It wasn't long until we were headed down the same corridor the robbers had disappeared into. I could see multiple doors as we rushed through, doors leading to offices and more importantly, safe rooms for the deposit boxes. I only caught a glance at them but let's just say they were a lot more damaged than before. I'm sure the insurance companies weren't going to be happy. Our footsteps echoed through the corridor as we stomped our way forward. Ahead we could see a door with a big Exit sign above it. The door was closed, meaning they had already made it out of the building. They might've had a car waiting on the other side and flown to the Citadel's Mass Relay. I then noticed there seemed to be more footsteps. I looked over my shoulder to Paul and Phil.

"What are you guys doing?"

"What the fuck does it look like?" replied Phil.

"Just watch your back, all you've got is that shield belt for protection."

"Yes Master," mocked Paul.

The door opened as we approached and to my delight revealed no vehicle flying away in the distance, though the robbers were running through crowds of terrified civilians, using them as their cover. We couldn't take the chance of hurting innocents. Eryc had a big bag wrapped around his armor. I had a feeling we were about to see how much he would fight for what it contained.

"Just keep going!" said Josh.

They had to emerge from their cover at some point. This street was going to clear as word got around and they would have to take a detour, unless they wanted to fight six cops. Unfortunately, we were on more even playing field then I would've liked. We may have out numbered them but they were prepared, armed to the bone with multiple weapons, full body armor and helmets. We had basic weaponry made with the principle of quantity over quality and a police vest at best and a shield belt at worst. Paul did what I had just thought of and opened his Omni-tool.

"This is Officer Edward. Me plus five other officers have three armed suspects running through a street outside of the Berox Bank on Zakera. We need back up on my location ASAP, over."

I couldn't hear the other side of his call so I kept my eyes on the Turians. It was actually good that they were wearing what they were wearing because they blended into the crowd about as well as Donald Trump in Harlem. Surveilling them was easy.

"We've got back up coming in five!" said Paul.

"Then we've got to stay on them until then!" I said.

"They're headed right!" said Shea.

They broke off the main path and jumped in the new direction, out of sight briefly. I kept my weapon's sight level as we turned the corner, they could be waiting behind cover. I spotted the three of them running instead of waiting to mow us down. They were panicking, in as much of a rush as we were. No time for clever plans. The quiet one in blue armor looked over his shoulder and brought up his weapon with one hand. He pulled the trigger and fired wildly. I shuddered each time a bullet hit my shields but kept moving. They were just about to run around another corner ahead of us, leading up to another street, civilians on the other side making room for us.

Josh went as far right in the alleyway as he could ahead of me, stopping for the briefest of seconds. He brought his sights up and fired three bursts from his assault rifle. As he moved forward with us, the Turian in blue fell to the ground. The other two were out of sight past the alleyway's wall. The blue armored felon lifted his head up along with his assault rifle. We didn't take any chances, stopping to fire at the robber. His body torquing each time a bullet hit him, taking more rounds than his heat sink could handle. The sound of our killing machines bounced off of the dozens of buildings on the street, my body tingled.

"Take it! Go!" I heard a voice ahead say. It was Eyrc.

**Aui**We sprinted out of our trance and made our way past the body on the ground. We turned the corner to see the last half of the crew make their way to another alleyway across the street, Mal running ahead with the bag previous held by Eyrc. The Turian in red turned around just short of the alleyway's entrance.

"Fuck you!" he shouted, holding the trigger of his weapon.

I instantly drew my pistol up and fired the last of its magazine before I heard a distinct click, indicating its limit had been reached. Everyone else had done the same and like his partner in crime, Eyrc was on the ground, bleeding out as his life had already reached its end. That left one person. I heard sirens coming toward us, Back-up finally arriving, just in time to watch us finish the job. We made our way across the street and into the alleyway containing Mal. I grew concerned seeing the parked X-3M at the end, its back taunting me; if we didn't stop he would roar off into space.

"Mal! Stop and drop your weapon!" I pleaded with him to surrender.

A steaming hiss coupled emitted from my weapon as I ejected my spent clip and replaced it with my last one, my comrades doing the same.

"Stop where you are right now!" said Josh.

Next to the vehicle, opening the door, Mal was not about to stop. I raised my weapon's sight, hopefully the final time, finger inching the trigger back. I halted when a wave of disbelief hit me. As the door opened an arm stretched out from the vehicle, aiming a shot gun at Mal's head. The Turian flew back with a horrendous smack against the wall close by. The unknown being in the vehicle ditched the shotgun and reached across for the bag around Mal, all the while keeping his identity concealed by the vehicle. We sprinted forward.

"Stop, Police!" I shouted.

The anonymous being refused to listen and shut the door. I remained still and started firing at the vehicle to no avail. The vehicle lifted off of the ground and flew off to blend in the sea of X-3's. I was about to resort to blasphemy when I suddenly heard the sound of struggled breathing. Mal was still alive. I rushed over and knelt next to the Turian.

"Mal, do you hear me?"

He couldn't respond, only shivered from the wound covering his head. His helmet came off, revealing the damage, easily the most horrific thing I had ever seen.I heard sirens and turned around to see a C-Sec cruiser land, officers jumping out surveying the violence left in our wake.

"Get a medic!" I shouted. "We've got a live one!"

I don't know why I did what I did but Mal was about to die, bleeding out on the street, part of his head missing. I remembered the simulation with the drug king pin, about how taking down the source from the head was the real goal in any situation. I just needed one thing from the Turian to do that.

"Mal. Who was in the car? Who did this to you?"

Even if he was a participant in all this mayhem he could still do some good, give me a name with his dying breath. He didn't give me a syllable. All I got was the man's left eye closing before he slumped his head. Someone out there had just gotten away with potentially millions of credits and we had now idea who he was.

**Now Playing : I Will Never Be The Same - Speak**

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**Authors Note : Been a while since I made a shoutout and I might as well make one to a story that I was recently mentioned in... All be it in not the most dignified manner but oh well. The beginning is a little inconsistent but the story only seems to be getting better as does the author. Also, Bronzey, in the event you're reading this, fuck you. www . fanfiction s/9044377/1/Welcome-to-Earth-2013 (Remove Spaces)**


	8. Chapter 8 : Get Over It

**Mass Affect : Revised Edition**

**Chapter 8 : Get Over It**

**June 17th, 2181**

**2:05 PM, Citadel Time**

**Berox Bank, Zakera Ward**

**(Lucas)**

"Thanks." I gestured to the cute girl from the medical team, taking a sip from the water bottle she'd handed me.

C-Sec had a team from the Academy's Medbay come down and check up on the agents and civilians involved in the robbery. I swallowed the tasteless liquid as I thought about the final moments of the case. Regardless of who the robbers were working for, the person in the car had to have been a part of it. I thought he was the man in charge and had used said robbersfor his own gain. They wouldn't have hired a driver they couldn't trust.

The medics didn't waste time trying to help Mal who died in front of me, the other three Turians were dead as well. All of our kills were confirmed. That led to a whole new problem though. I was told that once we were free to leave the scene we would have to be interviewed by another branch of Citadel Security, basically a futuristic version of the District Attorney. Every on-the-job shooting had to be investigated in order to make sure the officer had fired his weapon for the right reasons. I wasn't worried about it though. "Bank robbers were shooting at us with fully automatic weapons," seemed like a pretty good draw card for an officer to have.

I put away my blanket the girl - Rebecca I think her name was - handed out by procedure and walked over to Paul and Phil who were being treated by another medic and into an argument.

"Can you please just tell them that I'm not in shock?" said Paul, annoyed with Bjorn, leaning against a car.

"I don't know, you look like your a little in sho..."

"Fuck you."

Everyone chuckled. "Taking some notes from my playbook are we Paul?" I jabbed.

"Fuck you too."

"Seriously Paul calm down," said Phil. "I mean it's not like we've just been held at gun point by a bunch of psychopaths- Oh wait!"

"You know you guys are lucky right?" I asked.

"Of course we know. We're just kidding around."

_Phil being the voice of reason. What are the odds? _I nodded and looked around as the others chatted. I spotted one of the hostages that was inside, a Quarian, young by the way suit looked, gray with a teal mask. I narrowed my eyes realizing who it was. I checked every direction to see if anyone else was around. It was just us, the medic for Paul and Phil went to go help other some of the others

"Hey Phil, is that Lia Vael?"

"Yeah. She's the one you ran into in that side quest right?"

"What are you guys talking about?" asked Josh.

"That Quarian over there. She was a minor character in game but according to that she's not supposed to be on the Citadel until 2185..." I trailed off. _How does that make sense?_

"Those thermal clip things are here, maybe she's just another presence that's different," shrugged Shea.

"Yeah...I'll be right back."

The others went back to their conversation while I walked toward the Quarian. Already being pestered by a C-Sec Agent. Technically the officer wasn't doing anything wrong but his attitude and choice of questions annoyed me.

"I don't care about your traditions, I just want you to answer my questions," said the cop.

"You asked me why I was on the Citadel," replied Lia, standing up for herself but appearing a little scared.

"Officer," I said. "Let it go."

"She's not answering any of my questions!"

"Then hand this over to someone else."

He took one more look at the Quarian and snorted, shaking his head in disgust. "Fucking suit rats."

I would've expressed my opinion on racist cops in my next pile of paperwork but the truth was no one gave a shit. Trying to convert racists here was just as pointless as back home.

"Lia'Vael?" I asked. It was procedure.

"Nar Ulnay, yes. What is it?"

"I'm Officer Raycevich. Just here to ask a few questions. Though I plan to not end this with another Officer coming by and politely asking me to go away."

She remained silent. I knew she didn't trust me and I couldn't blame her.

"For the sake of bringing me up to speed, why were you at the bank?"

She sighed. "I was at the bank because I have a friend I knew from the Mirgrant Fleet. He said he had some spare items in his safe box that could help with my pilgrimage."

"Your right of passage into adulthood?"

She lifted her head up, surprised. I fought the urge to smirk.

"Yes, you know about the pilgrimage?"

"My friends and I read up on all of the species, including Quarians." That was partially true.

"Wow. I didn't know there were people that even bothered. Most treat us like thieves, especially the police."

"Tell me about it. I have to work with those assholes."

She seemed to brighten up. Not all of my fellow agents treated Quarians like shit but it was pretty common for me to see an officer with his cuffs ready anytime a Quarian was in sight like they were creatures of the night. Lia relaxed further as I proceeded through the questions. It was a couple minutes later when I was done and she was getting ready to leave.

"You have a place to stay I'm guessing?" I asked. Judging by the condition of her suit she didn't look like she'd just arrived.

"I did but couldn't make the payments since, I don't have a job right now."

"And you can't get a hotel room since all of the money from the safe box is lost."

"I guess."

I thought of our place, the empty guest room. I hadn't gone into in while due to being busy at the Academy but it should've been fine.

"You know you're welcome to stay with us until you find a place of your own."

Again, she looked surprised. "Oh, no I couldn't. Not that I don't uh, appreciate the offer but I just..."

"Come on. Your only other option is to find a couch somewhere in the Wards. You'll probably wake up to another C-Sec dickhead trying to arrest you for vagrancy."

"I.." She sighed and put a hand on her mask.

I understood. Naturally she'd hesitate suddenly encountering someone offering a place, asking for nothing in return.

"What about your friends, are they going to be okay with this?"

"Yes," I replied, though I wasn't 100% certain.

She shook her head, typed some stuff into her Omni-tool and stood "Okay, where is the place?"

* * *

It turns out even with our card to play, the investigators made us wait for hours. This did allow Lia time to meet the others and learn about them but even she fell into silence after a point. Her presence was no less curious though. It seemed to me that she was exactly the same as in the game, just as Harkin was, but she wasn't meant to be here. It made me wonder whether this world really was the same as Mass Effect. It had the same technology, species and people - not characters - but there was always a small aspect that would come along and look out of place to me.

Just before five o'clock, the investigators finally let us all go after arriving at the conclusion that we hadn't done anything wrong. Who would've thought? I messaged Terran and by the time we were outside the apartment door, I still hadn't received a response. Bjorn entered the door's code from memory and the apartment revealed itself to our guest. I took off my sweater and threw it across the room, landing on my bed. I'd hang it up later was what I always told myself.

"Wow," said Lia as she looked around in wonder. "So you all just arrived here and planned to split the rent?"

_Not exactly, _Ialmost replied before stopping myself. The last thing I needed was a Quarian asking us questions about how we got here. "Yeah, we got bored of Earth and wanted to go someplace different. The galactic core seemed like a good choice," I lied. The fact that I was able to pull this story from my ass with no pauses and a straight face scared me.

"Well it certainly seems to be working out."

"Aside from Shea's music, Bjorn's face and Paul's snoring, I guess I can't complain," said Phil.

"Come on, I don't snore that bad!" replied Paul.

"Yes you do!"

"Well at least I don't talk in my sleep like fucking Lucas!"

"Which last I checked, you told me was just a bunch of muttering and only happened occasionally. Not something that happens every five seconds," I pointed out.

"Too long, did not listen!" Paul called out before getting something from the kitchen.

Shea and I escorted Lia over to the end of the apartment and the guest room as the other clowns got on with their gong show and endless banter.

"Are you guys always like this?" asked Lia.

"Yes," Shea and I said in unison. "And if you end up trading our shenanigans for the street I wouldn't blame you," I added.

She chuckled. Getting a sense that we were a far cry from the serious nature that people portrayed on the Flotilla, at least from what she told us. That was when we stopped in front of the door, surprised to find a red hologram in front of it.

_Must be a glitch._ I put my hand over the graphic, only to be met with a dismissive audio sting.

"What the fuck? Sense when was this locked?"

"I don't know, it was green all the other times I've seen it," said Shea.

"Here, let me try something." Lia brushed past us, standing in front of the hologram and activated her Omni-tool, fingers dashing across the display.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm hacking the door. Quarians are expected to master their Omni-tool before they ever get their suits. It's meant for ship repairs since most of my people have models that need maintenance. My ship had so many errors I grew accustomed to hacking the door to my own space." A beep emitted from her device as the door unlocked. "There."

I stepped next to her and hit the hologram. "Open sesame," I said as the door opened.

_I've always wanted to do...that._ My thoughts came to a crawl as what greeted us was not the empty square space this used to be. It had been replaced with a dark room, covered wall to wall in reflections of multiple holo-screens, a figure sitting in a chair, his hands racing over the holographic keys, so immersed in his own world he didn't notice the three of us enter. Part of me had put everything together yet I still needed to ask.

"Terran?"

Terran jumped at the sound of my voice, quickly turning around, a look of shock on his face. His eyes briefly settled on Lia before looking at Shea and I.

"Hey, guys."

"Terran, what is this?" asked Shea, gesturing to the cacophony of lights from the screens.

"Uh it's...uh..."

"This is why we barely see you isn't it?" I asked, knowing the answer deep down.

By now the others had heard our little conversation and decided to jump in on the fun, repeating our questions.

"Just stop for a second!" yelled Terran. The room fell silent. "Look, I just needed to get away for a while, okay?"

"Can you guys give us some privacy for a bit?" I asked.

Imagining that having to talk about a clearly serious matter was a little daunting when you have seven people looking at you in the eye. Paul gestured Lia to come with them. I didn't want her hearing something she shouldn't the first day she arrived. Shea, Terran and I watched them leave before the door shut.

"When did you start this?" I asked in awe. Taking in the sight before me. "What is this even?"

Terran seemed relieved at my lack of anger. "This is just my station I guess. I started working on it around the time you guys went to the Academy. Started reading stuff on how the terminals worked here and they're little quriks and all that."

I noticed a program on the main screen in front of him, a screen I'd seen as I passed some of the Tech guys at C-Sec, the software called "Invasion," a hacking program used by the most skilled and talented in the profession, the type of program used to start or stop major Cyber attacks. It could hack into pretty much anything. By learning how terminals worked, what Terran actually meant was learning how to break them, or more specifically, how to break others internally, something Shea and I realized simultaneously.

"You were the one that sent me the bank's security footage."

Terran didn't respond but failed to hide his little smirk.

"Why didn't you just give it to the cops?" asked Shea.

Terran shrugged. "I don't really know. I just figured that giving it to you would probably be faster. Most cops would've probably tried to trace my location if I gave it to a random officer, plus I didn't know anybody else inside to give it to besides you guys."

The fact that my friend was able to do what employed staff of Special Response couldn't amazed me. He had a rare gift. Yet I knew that there was a reason why he'd kept this to himself.

"Why didn't you tell us about this?"

He shook his head. "Like I said, I needed to just be with myself for a while. Let myself, you know, think things through. I just needed to do something that didn't involve you guys."

"What else is there?"

"That's the point. There is nothing else," he sighed as he rubbed his eyes before looking up again. "Back home I had my family, my brother, people that I cared about. Here I don't have anything."

He was hurt, like the rest of us, reminding me what I'd been trying to push out of my mind since starting at C-Sec, that we were on our own with no way of getting back to how things used to be, at least not at the moment.

"Look. I know what you're going through. This hasn't been easy for any of us, but the only way you're going to be on your own is if you make sure of it."

Silence fell over the room again until Terran nodded with a sad smile. "So what now?"

"Well I think you deserve a break. Come meet our guest. Plus, we can discuss your contribution to the rent."

"But, I don't have a job."

"I think that's about to change."

**Now Playing : Ok Go - Get Over It**

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**Authors Note : Once again I find myself giving a shoutout to the same author I gave one to last week. However, I make a much more significant appearance than a mention of me screaming like a little girl. If you enjoyed this story than be sure to check out this one-shot by Bronzedamazon : www. fanfiction s/9233797/1/Quest-for-Penguinos (Remove Spaces)**


	9. Chapter 9 : Signs of Life

**Mass Affect : Revised Edition**

**Chapter 9 : Signs of Life**

**August 30th, 2181**

**8:45 AM, Citadel Time**

**700 Blocks, Zakera Ward**

**(Lucas)**

"You're positive he's inside, Terran?" I asked over the communicator. My hand rest over my pistol's holster, like Bjorn next to me, ready to use it if necessary.

We stood outside an apartment door, a plate of steel between us displaying an irritating red hologram. The shack belonged to a Jack Bole, sixteen year old human male, living with a group of friends. You might be thinking that he was like us except I'd be angry at the very idea of someone comparing me to Mr. Bole.

"Yes! Just hit the freaking bell!" replied Terran.

He'd found Mr. Bole after being brought on a case by some other officers digging into fake identifications. Some nightclub was caught admitting one of Bole's friends with an unconvincing I.D by a C-Sec agent. I liked tp call the officer Agent Thundercunt, because only an asshole would do something as petty as call in a full investigation on a shitty club due to some human making a stupid mistake. Unfortunately, I was just another agent paid to bore my ass off and do what I was told.

I raised my hand and hit the digital bell. "Jack Bole! C-Sec! Open up!" I flexed my fingers as Mr. Bole remained silent. "Terran, what's he doing?"

Turned out the apartment building had a camera in each shelter for "protection."

"He's...in the closet," my friend replied with disbelief.

I sighed. "Okay, just hack the door."

"Already did it."

The hologram turned green and the plate of steel retracted as I hit the hologram with my fist. Bjorn and I slowly entered, hands still resting over our holsters. The apartment oozed male pride, festooned with _manly_ chairs, drinks and action vids on the big holo-screen. The place was a fucking wreck. I wanted to find this Mr. Bole and get outside so I wouldn't catch some weird disease.

"Mr. Bole! C-Sec!" I called out. Still no response. This was really pathetic because not only could Terran see where he went on the camera, but also because I could hear him panting in the closet like he just ran a marathon. I turned to my partner.

"You know the drill."

"Yep," said Bjorn.

I left him in the main room, walked over to the master bedroom, containing small mattresses suggesting this was where everybody slept, yet I had the distinct impression that _pass out _was probably more accurate, what with all of the drugs and beer laying around. If I was Agent Thundercunt I'd probably call in narcotics and have these guys behind barriers for the next year.

"Mr. Bole, I know your hiding in here, there's no point trying to get away from this!"

I got no response _again_. Rolling my eyes almost to the point of no return, I walked over the closet and slid the door open. Inside remained the sad little man wielding a baseball bat which might as well have been a pointed stick.

"Get back!" he screeched.

"Mr. Bole, what you're being charged for is a small fee that can easily be payed off if you just work with me."

"Get back! I swear I will use this!" he brandished the bat.

"Yeah, and I've got a gun. So if you're smart you will..."

He leaped from the closet with a battle cry, tackling me to the floor before getting back to his feet and running. _Why did I even bother with that last sentence? _I slowly got up knowing what the end result would be. I heard a quick smack, crack and thud as I stood on my two feet. I stepped inside the lobby to witness the mind blowing event of Bole being on the floor.

Bjorn cuffed his victim. "Mr. Bole, you have the right to remain silent..."

* * *

I zoned out after that as it was the same shit we had done before. _You have the right to remain silent, blah blah blah, blah blah blah_. Maybe that wouldn't have been the case if we were patrolling gang territories but the 700 blocks of Zakera weren't even in the same Ward. Living in the 400's, I hadn't gotten to see this part of Zakera. It wasn't a bad neighborhood or anything, it was just kind of average with the quality of the buildings decreasing as you got closer to the practically abandoned 800 and 900 blocks.

A police cruiser came by to pick up Jack Bole. Terran went off with them, leaving me and Bjorn standing outside our cruiser. He added the arrest to C-Sec's database with his omni-tool.

"I wonder what Sarge would think if I wrote this like a story or something," said Bjorn.

"Two idiots arresting a bigger idiot in a shitty apartment. That's bestseller material right there!"

"You could call it...I don't know."

I laughed. "Yeah, great title, that'll draw some attention."

"I forgot what I had in mind."

"Actually that title might work if you take the desperate movie producer approach."

"What's that?"

"Just flash some big tits under the title."

He chuckled while the mental image of the cover came into my head, making me do the same. I moved to open the car door when a sudden scream in the distance stopped me. Bjorn looked up from his omni-tool. Once I determined the scream's origin, I ran forward, pulling my pistol out of its holster as Bjorn followed. A woman ran out of the alleyway next to the restaurant. She stooped in her tracks when she saw us coming toward her.

"Who are you?"

We held up our badges. "C-Sec. What are you running from?"

"There's a body!" she was shaking. "It's behind the trash can."

"Do you know who's it is?"

"No, I have no idea!"

"Okay, stay here."

She nodded furiously before heading in the opposite direction of us. We headed down the alley, traveling at a brisk pace but not fast enough to compensate our aiming. We readied our weapons even if the person was dead. The body wasn't in the trash can though. It was sprawled out, a human male, the odd nature of this case escalating. Not only was the guy dead, he had no marks of any kind, no wounds, no hair. He was just a corpse. A naked corpse.

* * *

My preference for alternative rock was enough to send Paul on a troll binge so when he heard that Bjorn and I had found a dead body with a lack of clothing...

"You know Lucas, generally you're supposed to take a date out for dinner before ripping their clothes off."

"Fuck you."

Paul and Phil laughed. Aside from those two assholes, another two man beat team came over to secure the crime area and the crowd that was starting to form. Now we were just supposed to sit around and wait for some Turian douches to show up. At least, that's what I thought.

"You said you took point right?" asked Phil.

"Yeah," I said suspiciously. "Why?"

"That means you're first reporting then. Try to get as much info as you can so the investigators don't have to spend as much time here."

Phil's tiny smirk grew, gesturing to the corpse. He pulled out some plastic gloves out of his pocket and tossed them to me. I gave him an evil glare before walking away, slipping on the gloves.

"Be sure not to leave any marks!" he called out.

My well trained middle finger did what it always did and another laugh came from Phil. I zoned out the noise as I approached the body, my eyes averting from the crotch on display. _I should've brought one of those medical blankets or something. _I knelt down and tilted the body on its side to check his back for marks. There weren't any except those from the tiny pieces of trash on the ground. I searched the rest of the body and still nothing. No strangulation marks, no loss of blood, no bruises, no nothing. The only thing I was sure of was this wasn't an accident. When someone has a heart attack they don't take their clothes off, shave their head, pale their skin and die on the floor of an alleyway.

"I know that look," a voice had said from above me.

_Oh shit. _The investigators were here. Now they were probably going to give me a lecture on "Don't fuck up my crime scene. Grrrrrrr." I stood up to see a Turian but to my surprise, lacking a detective badge, or a C-Sec outfit. Instead, he was dressed in casual Turian getup with a card hanging on his shirt, identifying him as...

"Izan Treyson, forensics," he said holding his hand out.

I accepted his human gesture. "Lucas Raycevich, uh, just officer."

"Don't say that like my job's any more exciting," said Izan, kneeling down by the body with a military style briefcase. It was flat silver, filled with tools and plastic bags, not a device to initiate dreams like the ones from Inception. He noticed me inspecting the case's contents. "Really most of this stuff is just for show. This," his omni-tool opened up. "Is a lab geek's best friend."

"You're called a lab geek?"

"The humans insist on calling me that, don't know why. Most Turians have a different name for me."

"What do they call you?"

"Something much worse."

I chuckled. Am I finally in the presence of a cool Turian? You know, besides most of the recruits at the academy, Garrus, Nihlus, Arron, oh fuck off. Still, this guy was cool. It was nice to see this instead of the investigators Josh and Shea had encountered.

"So, what do we know?"

The question caught me off guard. I don't like being put on the spot. My brain raced for answers when I realized that really, I didn't know shit about the guy on the floor. "Uh, he's a human male,"

"Good start."

I looked at him with a glare but realized he was kidding. "Looks like he's late twenties, a bit hard to tell from the lack of hair, or clothing."

"Welcome to my world."

"He didn't die by force though."

"How can you tell?"

I gestured to the body, the lack of markings or injuries. He nodded, a look of surprise on his face. I still wasn't great at reading turians.

"Impressive. Not everybody notices those things."

"Notices what?" said another new voice.

Sort of new that is. I'd heard it before but only through a pair of headphones or speakers. I had seen some famous faces before and was pretty good at keeping my inner excitement hidden but I had never talked to them directly. He was tall, experienced and not very Turian, as he always went against the rules, constantly pulled aside for reprimands by the Executor. At least, that's what I heard.

"Garrus," said Izan.

Like the Citadel, Garrus Vakarian looked exactly as I remembered but he was so much more real than a bunch of pixels. Izan greeted a blonde human named Ian, standing next to everybody's favorite Turian. Hearing his name flashed the plate I saw next to Garrus' cubicle when I strolled through the investigators office.

"Izan," said Ian. The one word he spoke told me he was definitely English. "This is Lucas, agent first reporting."

Ian was the first to step up and hold his hand out. "Officer," he said as I shook his hand.

"Detective," I replied.

Garrus soon followed and shook hands with me too. It wasn't awkward suggesting he'd made the gesture plenty of times before, hopefully that translated into being nice to humans. Just like how Harkin he was the same person he was two years before Shepard came along.

"Something wrong?" the Turian asked when I looked at him longer than a person should.

"Just not used to talking to big names in the Academy, being a beat cop and all." I thought that story wasn't too much of a stretch. Being the son of a well known detective put Garrus in the spotlight many times in the past.

"You were at Berox right?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "Those two," I pointed to Paul and Phil, "were in the bank while my friends and I were out for lunch."

"I heard. Arron spoke of you. He normally doesn't do that, especially with humans. Uh, no offense," he said holding his arms up in a human gesture.

"Wow. Arron didn't seem very impressed with us while it was happening."

"He does that. I worked with him a few times before. He never actually gave anyone credit in all the times we teamed up. However if he mentioned somebody, it really means he was impressed."

I nodded with an understanding expression.

"So what have we got?" asked Ian, gesturing to the body I had totally forgot about.

"Honestly, not much," I said, walking toward it, relating the same info I'd given Izan. My confusion was shared by the detectives. The scene wasn't an accident but it didn't look like a murder either. Izan took a DNA sample and ran it through the C-Sec database on his omni-tool. There wasn't any of that waiting a week for prints like I had heard about on those true crime shows my mom always watched. Izan's eyes narrowed in further confusion when the results came in a little while later. I wasn't surprised, given the alien nature of this case.

"The victim isn't in the system."

"What, like he doesn't have a name?" asked Ian.

"No, I mean like he is not in the system in any way."

"That's impossible," argued Garrus. "If our victim lived on the Citadel then there has to be something."

"Well so far this guy is proving you wrong, Vakarian."

"I hate it when dead people do that."

"So what do we do now?" I asked.

"Now we do something called investigating," replied Ian. "Should try it sometime."

"Not in my job description."

"Doesn't mean we can't use some help. We're going to have to interview people all around this block and we could use the help."

I paused. _If this keeps up I think my brain will explode. _"You mean you want me to help you with this case?"

"Yeah. That's okay, right Garrus?"

"I have no problem with it," confirmed the Turian.

"Why?" I asked.

"Why not?"

He had a point. Why not? It's not like I was having much fun anyway. Granted this was just walking around and interviewing people but at least it was something. As much as I may complain about how boring our jobs are I didn't want a repeat of what happened at the bank, especially concerning my friends.

"I'll go get my partner and we'll meet you outside."

"Sounds good," said the Brit as he and Garrus started to walk back to the parameter.

"You don't want extra hands with this, right?"

Ian looked over his shoulder. "Nah, you and your friend is all we need."

"Okay, just checking." _And obtaining bragging rights. _I smirked. I was working with Garrus fucking Vakarian! As well as some other random guy I don't know, whatever, he seemed nice enough. I was about to head out with them but stopped when I remembered there was a body on the ground. I turned around to look at Izan who was packing up his stuff.

"Who's going to move the body?"

"Usually the medical team. That or the officers guarding the scene."

"Alright. See you later. Good to meet you, Izan."

"Good to meet you too, Lucas."

I walked down the alley with a big grin. "Hey guys!" I waved to Paul and Phil. "I need you to move something for me!"

**Now Playing : Every Move a Picture - Signs of Life**


	10. Chapter 10 : The Little Things

**Mass Affect : Revised Edition**

**Chapter 10 : The Little Things**

**August 30th, 2181**

**10:45 PM, Citadel Time**

**C-Sec Academy, Zakera Ward**

"And you're sure that you didn't see anything earlier today?" I asked the Salarian, occupying the apartment a few blocks away from where the body was found.

Garrus, Ian, Bjorn and I had been canvassing the area, hoping someone had seen something. Since this was the last apartment in the last building in our sent direction, things weren't going well.

"No, I'm sorry. I've been inside this whole morning."

"That's okay, be sure to give us a call if you hear or see anything."

"Sure."

"Have a good one." Bjorn and I walked back down the hall. As soon as the door shut, I couldn't conceal my annoyance. "How unhelpful can someone be? Because that person just set the bar."

"I don't know. It's not like the other people we talked to had much to say either."

I hit the button for the elevator we stood in front of. As the steel doors opened my Omni-tool rang, signaling a call. It was from Ian. I hit answer when we both stepped inside the soon descending box.

"Hey, got anything on your block?"

"A whole lot of nothing," he replied. "Not a single person on my end saw our victim last night or this morning."

"Same here. It's like the guy was dumped out of a portal or something."

"A dead dimension traveler. That'd be a hell of a headline."

_I've got a better one. Person taken to Asylum, claiming that this world is all a game. _"I'm guessing Garrus isn't having any luck?"

I heard another beep and looked at my omni-tool's display; the call now included the four of us. _Speak of the devil._

"No witnesses here either," confirmed the Turian. "We're just going to have to wait for Izan to call and hope that he's got something."

The elevator continued its decent as another name came up in the chat. _Speak of the devil. Again._

"Izan, please tell us you've got something."

"I do. How long until you can get back to the station?"

The doors opened and I smirked. "Not long."

* * *

I had never been in a morgue; surrounded by dead people sure but I'd never been in a place where bodies were placed on metal slide out trays instead of wooden coffins. The chemical smell certainly wasn't welcoming. I imagined that Izan had to take a shower or use a can of body spray to mask the smell when he left work. The whole area smelt of chemicals and fragrance. The amount used though suggested it was used to cover something up. In this case, a naked dude found near a dumpster.

"So did you find out who the guy is?" I asked Izan as Garrus, Ian, Bjorn and I stood on the other side of the corpse, thankfully covered by a white sheet.

"Not who, rather, it."

My eyes darted left before I looked at him with raised eyebrows. "What?"

"Bear with me for a second. It's known that species all over the galaxy have been growing organs and skin tissues for years. So once that was perfected, some people thought they could... Take the next step and generate more complicated and complete beings."

"You're talking about scientists trying to create people?" asked Ian. "With brains and all that?"

"Yes. As you can see from this example though it hasn't worked."

"You mean, this is a generated human?" I asked, gesturing to the corpse.

"Yes. I figured it out when I ran some tests and came to find that the skin hadn't been fully preserved. That only happens if the body part has been generated. I got the same results on everything so there's no way that this thing is an organic human being."

"So it's basically a block of cheese with a pulse? Or used to be?"

"Kind of like a zombie," said Bjorn.

Izan nodded. "Pretty much. I know that the military would be all for expendable soldiers but the only scientists that still work on this stuff are desperate. There are far more productive things that they could be spending their time on. Plus in Council Space at least, they made this kind of activity illegal. There have been plenty of 'accidents' in the past that have tainted the concept."

"Hold on," said Garrus, clearly focusing on the case. "Is there any way to track this vessel, find out where it came from?"

"Unfortunately, no. It's clear that this body and everything attached with it was generated but there's no way to find out who made it."

"So we've hit a dead end?"

Izan held a finger up. "Not exactly. The brain part of the body wasn't fully generated either, that's why it was found dead. If there's a science lab close to where the body was found, you should have your creator."

* * *

That put us in a rush. Within a minute the four of us had made our way over to Garrus and Ian's desks in the detective section of the Academy. I didn't take in the scenery of experienced cops busting their ass, deciding instead to learn what it's like for myself. Disappointing and aggravating are the two best ways to describe it.

"This doesn't help us at all," I said, gesturing to the map on my Omni-tool's display. "There are four science labs in that area."

Ian shook his head, surveying the same disappointing evidence on his terminal. "Then we're going to have to find something else that incriminates one of the labs."

"Why don't we just go to all the labs?" asked Bjorn.

"Aside from that taking forever," injected Garrus. "It's possible that our suspect pays attention to his competitors. If he hears we're searching labs in the area, he'll know something is up and take off." The Turian pushed his chair away from his desk to look at us. "We're going to have to look up each lab's intel. Money transfers, communications, chat logs, everything. I figure since there are four of us that we take a look at one lab each."

"Isn't that going to take forever as well?" I asked, closing my omni-tool.

"It won't be quick but at least if we find something; we'll know who to go after."

"Except we're going to need warrants," added Ian, spinning in his chair to look at our group. "Won't that arouse suspicion from our creator too?"

"I never said anything about warrants," replied Garrus, drifting his chair back to his terminal.

"Are we really doing this again, Garrus? The Executor is already at everybody's throats. What do you think he's going to do when he finds out that we're illegally searching four science labs?"

Garrus turned around to look at his partner. "I'm not going to let somebody get away due to some red tape."

"What about them?" Ian gestured to Bjorn and I.

"That's actually a legit question," I added.

The Turian sighed. "To him you're just a beat team taking orders. If we're caught, neither of you will take any of the blame."

"No, just us so that our boss will assign us fewer cases in the future," said Ian.

"Then let's hope he still secretly applauds us for that Elcor case."

"Yeah, let's hope."

* * *

I kept telling myself that I preferred boredom over chaos, that I no longer wanted to be in any situations that put friends or myself in danger, but this was ridiculous. Do you know how boring it is to examine someone's bank records? No? Let me give you a hint. It's _really_ fucking boring! Bjorn wasn't as vocal as I was but his face did all the talking. He looked like a TV on standby. Ian and Garrus looked even less enthusiastic, sitting with their elbows on the desk as they scrolled through lab records. As a result, we ended up sharing jokes to pass the time.

"Did you learn any jokes since you left the military, Garrus?" I asked the Turian.

"I did pick up a few from C-Sec."

"They're pretty much the same aren't they?"

"More or less."

"I've got another one."

"Is it just as disgusting as the last?" asked Ian.

"I got it from the same comedian so yeah. What's the difference between marmalade and jam?"

"No idea."

"You can't marmalade your dick up a bird's ass."

Everyone snickered, keeping their laughter to a minimum as we were surrounded by other detectives going through the same bullshit we were. I could feel my arms running on auto pilot, pressing the next page icon on my datapad whenever my eyes reached the bottom of the screen. Just as I was hoping Garrus would pass on another joke - no matter how lame it might be - I noticed something on the records before me. They belonged to a Drell Scientist named Kalyan Marker, owner of the lab closest to our victim. That wasn't enough to convince me or the others. The proof was in the bank records. For over a year, I noticed that Marker was making a steady income each month. He would lose some money, then make a profit just before the new month. It was a classic system, somebody he knew was his little earner. The losses and profits became bigger and bigger with each passing month. That is, until last month when he lost more than a million credits that he never got back. Whoever he was working with took off with it. Izan said that the only scientists that ever delved into the concept of generating life in a lab were the desperate.

"Hey, guys. I think I found our perp."

**Now Playing : Danny Elfman - The Little Things**


	11. Chapter 11 : Young Men Dead

**Mass Affect : Revised Edition**

**Chapter 11 : Young Men Dead**

**August 30****th****, 2181**

**1:25 PM, Citadel Time**

**700 Blocks, Zakera Ward**

There was one sure thing about our suspect, he was made. With four science labs located in the 700 blocks, we could see the others in the distance from our police cruiser's windows. The one owned by Kalyan Marker was by far the most sophisticated. Granted that was just on the outside but the lab looked like it could've fit right in with the aristocratic Tayseri Ward. Garrus laid off the accelerator as we approached the building, few people about, most factories and labs containing less employees than one might think. The immense size of the buildings housed machinery, the same tech that replaced manual labor.

"You're sure this won't get us into trouble?" I asked Garrus as Ian opened the door remotely.

"It shouldn't," replied the turian as he stepped out.

"That isn't a yes."

"You're right about that."

Rolling my eyes, I slid out and planted my feet on the ground, as did Bjorn on the otherside.

"Don't worry about it," said Ian. "It's not as if you're going to get a promotion when this case closes, knowing our Executor."

"I guess. I just don't want to end up behind a desk." I leaned back inside to pull my semi-automatic rifle out of the vehicle.

"Oh I wouldn't worry about that," said Garrus. "There's more than enough failed students to take those jobs."

"Speaking of taking, why are you bringing that out?" asked Ian.

I slipped the rifle over my shoulder onto the magnetic holsters on my back. "Just in case the guy tries to make a run for it."

"So why does he have one too?" the Brit countered, gesturing to Bjorn who was holding the same weapon as I.

"Insurance."

He sighed but with a smirk. "Whatever, let's just go."

Ian shook his head as he and Garrus took charge, Bjorn and I being behind them. We stepped toward the building's front entrance, finding an intercom next to the locked door. Ian activated the com.

"Derick Marker? This is Citadel Security, please open the door."

I tapped me feet as ten seconds went by with no answer.

"Derick Marker! Police Officers!"

"Yes, yes!" said a nervous voice on the end of the line. The sound of it confirmed that Mr. Marker was a drell. "J-just a moment!"

"If you don't open this door we're going to have to use force to open it!" said Garrus.

"D-don't you need a warrant?"

"We have one," lied the turian. "I can show it if you open the door."

"I-please, just one moment."

I sighed. "He's stalling, just open the fucking thing."

I walked past the two of them and saw the numeric key pad on the door's hologram, neither of the detectives tried to stop me. I entered the code Terran had given me; the doors slowly retracted, revealing what Kalyan Marker had been trying to cover up. I stopped in my tracks upon seeing the white lab filled with colorless tubes containing generated life forms. We stepped forward. There were humans like the one we found in the alley, but multiple species as well. Before us sat a large overview station; in the middle of it behind a window and sealed doors we saw a drell with facial markings matching those of our suspect. By now, we had our pistols drawn, Ian and Garrus taking point.

"Kalyan Marker. You are under arrest! Come out of there with your hands behind your head!" shouted Ian.

"No," replied the drell over the loudspeaker.

Bjorn and I glanced at the equally puzzled detectives.

"If you don't come out we'll have to get you out," said Garrus. "With force if necessary."

"The two entrances to my post are sealed and the glass is bullet proof."

I jumped at the sound of a loud BANG from Garrus' pistol. The shot didn't make a dent. Garrus seemed more than miffed.

I decided to have a go at negotiating. _How hard can it be? _"If you plan to just sit in that hut all day I can call up some buddies from the Academy and invite them over. I'm sure they wouldn't mind chilling for a while."

"You won't be calling 'buddies'," said the drell.

"And why's that?" asked Ian.

"Because I have a communications jammer in this building. Nobody except me can make a call to anyone. There's also the other factor."

"Which is?"

"You'll be dead."

Then the glass retracted. We turned around to see the capsules containing bodies had opened and the brain-dead beings had started to move. I aimed my pistol at the first one that planted its feet on the ground, a turian, while slowly taking a step back. I gulped as they all began running toward us. Marker revealed no remorse or joy. He was blank, much like the goons he'd released.

I was wondering why he'd let them out as the closest goon burst into a sprint. I quickly re-aimed my weapon's sights, as did the others, laying it on the turian's head. With no sign of it stopping, we fired at the same time. Nothing happened, not even a flinch. We continued to fire at the being before it finally dropped to the floor. Bjorn, Garrus, Ian and I had spent half our pistol clips on the one turian. That didn't stop the rest of the clones - for lack of a better term - from coming toward us.

"Fallback!" said Garrus as we shot the next clone in line.

Ian brought up his omni-tool while keeping his pistol leveled in his right hand. "This is Detective Shaw, requesting back up on my location ASAP, over."

No one replied. The only voices we heard were the groans of our next dead victim. Ian made a fist before the holographic device around his wrist faded away.

"Son of a bitch wasn't bluffing. I can't contact anybody."

"We don't have enough ammo to take these guys out!" said Garrus, unloading his pistol into another clone before ejecting the thermal clip. "I'm on my last heat sink!"

I swapped my pistol for the rifle on my back. The sniper folded out in my hands before I looked through the digital scope. I held my breath as the sight landed right on one of the zombies' head before pulling the trigger, only to see him continue to move. I dropped the piss-for-brains salarian with two more shots to the head. With our clips running low, we wouldn't last against the onslaught. My eyes darted around as the other three kept firing at our targets. This place was huge with many extra spaces sprawled across the building. That was when I spotted a room with a "Supplies" sign displayed over the entrance. The burning heat sinks on the floor got me thinking.

"Bjorn. Toss your last rifle and clips and head to the supplies area. Find something flammable. Preferably some fuel."

My friend looked at where I was pointing and nodded. "Okay."

Before anybody else got a word in, the Viking dropped his rifle's clip, got on his feet and ran as fast as his legs allowed toward the supplies area.

"I know what you're doing!" said Garrus, taking the rifle and emulating my shots. "I'm not sure it's going to work!"

"I'd take a chance over guaranteed death!"

My trigger clicked without an ensuing bang. I pulled the lever back as the smoking hot clip ejected. I reached down and slid my last mag in before pushing the lever back forward just as one of the clones kept pushing toward me. I pulled my rifle back and hit the walker over the head with the weapon's stock, stunning the mindless vessel, giving me enough time to kick it back as I unloaded three more shots into it.

"Bjorn!"

No response.

I aimed at my next target, the area echoing with the sound of bullets and groans. I tossed my drained rifle at a zombie, making the victim fall to his feet which did not slow down the others. I pulled my pistol out again when I saw Bjorn holding a space-age metal can with the cap open. He ran past the zombies before any of them could make a move against him, covering the path in front of them with a liquid that shined in the building's bright lights. I spent my last clip on the zombie recovering from the fall when Bjorn returned, throwing the last of the fuel can away as the path was covered.

"Should work!" he said.

I lined up my pistol's magazine slot before hitting the unload button. The burning piece slipped out of the weapon and landed on the wet floor. I held my breath as the gas ignited. The clones kept coming as the flames got closer. They covered the floor and then the mindless hunks of flesh. Their groans became screams as their artificial skin burned to a crisp and the bodies started dropping. I let out my breath as they failed to recover from their predicament. That was when I looked up to the overhead site where Marker was, only to see him pull a ladder out of nowhere and climb up to a hole in the roof.

"Motherfucker!"

"All of you take the bottom, I'll chase him up top!" said Garrus, running toward the stairs leading up to the sealed doors. I could see that he already had his omni-tool activated before opening a hacking program.

"Come on!" said Ian, taking point for us.

There was an entrance like the one we entered earlier on the other side of the building, this one with a big fat red icon. Ian brought up the same program Garrus was using and got to work trying to open the damn thing. All Bjorn and I could do was wait in anxiety as this asshole drell was busy moving his feet. My heart was thumping in my chest when the door finally opened and the three of us sprinted out of the laboratory. In sight was the drell on our level, running toward a sea of parked skycars.

"Marker! Stop right there!" I yelled out.

I don't know why, I didn't expect him to. He had a huge lead and was going to jump into a vehicle before we could get to him until he suddenly fell, a squirt of blood emitting from his leg, followed by the sounds of a voice wailing in pain and a gun shot. I turned around to see Garrus muzzling Bjorn's now empty rifle.

_I bet he shot that fleeing dealer in the Academy's training. _

I slowed down my pace to a jog before finally getting a close look at our prime suspect. He was shivering on the ground marked with his blood. I pulled out my handcuffs and locked them around his wrists before Ian put some medi-gel on the drell's leg. I opened my mouth to read his rights when I noticed that his eyes were as distant as my home planet.

"I looked at his message. My palm clenched in anger. He left me for death. This left only left me one option."

I pulled the bastard to his feet and tightened the cuffs. The drell stopped, realizing what he had said.

"What was that?" I asked sternly.

"N-nothing."

"Bullshit that was nothing. Who are you talking about?"

"I want to see my lawyer."

I gave the suspect to Ian who took him over to the police cruiser. Garrus was making a call to C-Sec while Bjorn and I stood and looked at each other, glancing at the building we had barely escaped. It only hit me then that I could've died in there. Like they say, you feel most alive when you are closest to death.

* * *

Bjorn took another gulp of his two litre mug of tea. I leaned against the wall with my arms crossed, looking through the double sided glass, giving us a perfect view of the vacant "interview" room holding Kalyan Marker. I shook my head in annoyance as he continued to keep his mouth shut. Ian and Garrus were doing everything they could but got nowhere. The drell was doing everything right, even if it was too little too late. We had the guy on enough charges to keep him locked up for decades, yet he wouldn't give us the one little piece of info we were interested in. Whoever the person lending him money was, he was scary enough for the drell to opt serving time rather than give us the loan shark and cut down his sentence. The detectives seemed to be on the same page as they left the room, meeting with us as the door shut behind them.

"He's afraid of someone and it's not a cop."

"And there's nothing we can do to get the information out of him?" I asked, knowing the answer.

"Nothing we can do without getting suspended," said Garrus. "Even then I don't think turian hierarchy techniques would work."

Somehow I imagined that anything related to the turian military didn't include sunshine and a nice tan.

"So all we can do is lock him up."

"That's it," said Ian. "But look on the bright side, at least we got our guy."

"And survived the closest thing to the zombie apocalypse."

"That too," the Brit smiled. "Speaking of which. We were planning to go out for drinks to celebrate. You two want to come?"

"Ah, drinking isn't really my thing."

"It's not mine either. Most of the time I just order a coke while Garrus and Rebecca indulge."

I looked at Bjorn who shrugged. I made the same gesture to the detective. "Why the hell not?"

"Great. I'll send you a message later on where to meet up," said Ian as he held out his hand to shake. I returned to the gesture and did the same with the Vakarian.

"It's been interesting, detective."

"Sure has, officer."

We left. This case certainly was going to give us one mother lode of paper work. It wasn't long until the two of us were making our way down the sea of cubicles. There were over two hundred thousand C-Sec agents and therefore, plenty of floors full of desks. Bjorn's was located just in front of mine. I plopped my ass on the comfy office chair and reached for my drawer full of datapads. I looked at the contents. Before I could react, a small POP went off and I couldn't see my box's contents any more, just white. That was when the laughter erupted from two desks opposite of mine. I whipped some of the shaving cream off my skin to see Paul and Phil. I hadn't even thought about what happened earlier today aside from the victim itself. _Payback's a__ bitch ain't it?_

"Haha very funny guys." I got up from my chair to go find a washroom.

"You got some shit on your face!" Paul called out as I walked down the corridor.

_And I was planning on inviting them to hang with Garrus?_

**Now Playing**** :****The Black Angels - Young Men Dead**


	12. Chapter 12 : Heat

**Mass Affect : Revised Edition**

**Chapter 12 : Heat**

**December 24****th****, 2181**

**6:30 AM, Citadel Time**

**Apartment Building, Zakera Ward**

**(Lucas)**

The game had been set up. We were winning. Approaching the end. I was ready. Poised and ready to strike, about to have my prey submit to the subject of death. I lined up the sights on my thermal scope. I pulled the trigger and the target fell to fill the final number on the scoreboard. The in-game announcer in his earth shaking deep tone said "Game over" before the screen faded back to the menu. I smiled at the lack of load times, only to sigh as the other players in the lobby re-initiated their screaming match.

"Dude, you guys fucking suck!"

"'Dem niggas wer weak as fuck!'

"Shut up faggot!"

"You're all gays! Fucking cheating pieces of shit!"

"Suck my dick motherfuckers!"

_Nice to see that the gaming community hasn't changed. __Whoever came up with the mute button deserves __freaking __a statue._

"Are they always like this?" asked Lia from the other coach, sipping water through a straw.

"Pretty much. I'd be lying though if I said I didn't find it amusing."

The young quarian nodded. "Most of the games I played were the arcade ones on the omni-tool. We didn't have time for any of these," she gestured to the big screen and controller.

I checked my omni-tool's clock before tossing the controller to Lia and standing on my feet. "You do now. I've got to head out. The land of the dull needs its protectors."

"I thought humans were to take the day off. Christmas right?"

"They are. But I've got nothing else to do and I want to be in a place that avoids the holiday spirit as if it were the plague. Just like me."

* * *

**(Josh)**

I shook my head, reeling back from the Academy's coffee. _I really need to use the __machine at the apartment more often. _I had to have something wake me up though. Today, officers were ordered to guard a high ranking member of the Eclipse mercenary gang. The reason as to why was hush hush but C-Sec was now supposed to treat him like the president. The pretty girl near the medical center was taking my mind off all that though, pulling back a few strands of hair behind her ear as her eyes blazed through what she was reading on the screen. I started to walk toward her. Might as well find something to look forward to after protecting a likely murderer.

"Josh," I heard a familiar voice call. I turned to see Lucas leaning against the wall with a smirk, gesturing me over. I sighed, irritated.

"What?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"Hands off."

It took a lot not to repeat the question. "Why? Do you have some unresolved feelings?" I mocked.

"I'm just advising you not to try and get a date with her because it'd probably end up as an assault charge on my desk."

"And why's that?"

Lucas didn't say anything and instead just gestured back toward the pretty girl. A blonde male human not much older looking than me was exchanging words with the girl and it didn't take a genius to figure out that this was a common occurrence by the way they conversed. I turned back only to see Lucas's grin.

"Shut up," I deadpanned before walking past him.

"I didn't say anything," he shrugged, walking next to me.

"Yes. You were not saying something very loudly."

"I know, dude. Had we end up somewhere else I could've been a fucking Jedi."

I started making my way to the elevator as Lucas followed. The square lift came up surprisingly quickly. I guessed it would slow down once we stepped inside. I hit the key for C-Sec's upper floor where we were both headed. It was about time for the morning brief.

"I'll be honest, I was tempted to keep my mouth shut."

"How was I supposed to know she has a boyfriend?"

"I don't know. Maybe because everybody in the Academy has known for months."

"That or because you already met her boyfriend. Some detective. Ian, right?"

"Yeah. Somebody you could've met on many occasions, as well as Garrus."

"I was busy. Plus I don't even know who Garrus is. Besides, when are you ever going to get a date?"

"When I meet the right person."

"Uh-huh. You're going to bump into each other at the book store and help her pick up her stuff as you gaze at each other's eyes right?"

"No, actually."

"Well what then?"

"I don't know. It's not really what I'm focused on. If it happens soon, great, whatever. Frankly I'm still getting used to being here let alone going on a date here."

A silence fell as the elevator crawled its way up. "She is pretty hot though."

Lucas nodded. "That we can agree on."

The digital ding rang before the doors opened revealing one of the many floors holding dozens of officers. Our branch was one of the more racially diverse in the Academy; a blend of humans, asari, turians, salarians and even a drell. The latter was more than a little upset at Lucas's arrest of Kalyan Marker. Walking toward the briefing room I spotted Shea and Bjorn. Lucas went to set next to the latter while I sat with the former. Shea had his hand under his chin, reading a datapad.

"Anything interesting?" I asked.

Shea didn't utter a word as he handed me the datapad. Confused, I took it from his hand and read the short article displayed. Above the bold headline was a picture of a turian; tall, male, black plates, green face tattoos. It was a face many agents had heard about. Leo Calvin. He was a controversial figure, very quickly becoming C-Sec's new poster boy, closing one big case after another just as the council was trying to diversify C-Sec. While I was all for busting criminals regardless of race I didn't like what I saw in the article. He was about to become C-Sec's Commander, AKA the Executor's second in command.

"Are you kidding me?" I whispered.

"Get ready for more annoying bosses," replied Shea.

"Yeah. Get ready to help me smash my face into the wall."

The door opened to reveal the one boss that wasn't a complete dick, Sergeant Bailey. Lucas was the first to talk to him. I had no idea why until he told me Bailey was another character from the game. Becoming buddies with him turned out to be a good move because he was a very cool dude. He was much older but not the type that sat on their ass and talked about the good old days, especially considering he was a former Alliance marine which didn't leave many good days. He was like us in some ways; he didn't like C-Sec's red tape and had left Earth for the Citadel. While he may not have had to deal with as much loss as we did, he'd endured a nasty divorce and custody battle for his two kids.

"Alright everyone, quiet down," said the Sergeant, taking a seat in front of us. "As some of you may know, a group of us are going to be protecting Mr. Ryan Finch, one of the Commanders of Eclipse on our station. I dread this as much as you do but you will do your job or the Executor's new assistant will have a headline ready for the news. Agents Adams, Stone and myself are going to be with Finch while two more teams follow in cruisers above. In the meantime, everyone else has the same patrol as yesterday except for Raycevich and Vollmer. You two will be taking over your friend's slot," he said, pointing to me.

"Yes, Sir," nodded Lucas.

"Good. Now get out of here."

Everyone rose from their chairs. The screeching bounced off the walls, followed by footsteps out the door. Sergeant Bailey was ahead of Shea and I, he turned in the elevator to hit the button for one of the vehicle lots. The doors shut on the three of us.

"You really dread this as much as we do?" asked Shea.

"Let's just say I'd lock our client in a freezer if I could," Bailey replied wearily.

* * *

_Lock him in a freezer? That's too nice._

"Hey, jarhead!" said Mr. Finch, looking at me. "Go get me a coffee. I don't like to be thirsty when making a deal."

"How about you go fuck yourself?" I replied, not even looking at the prick. He didn't deserve that level of respect. My eyes were focused on the empty catwalk above me, used by Keepers, thieves and people who can handle themselves against said thieves. There was a whole network of them on the station but with the dirt and even dirtier community that uses it, average people were happy to take the extra time to walk.

"Get him a coffee, Adams."

I looked at Bailey, bewildered. "What?"

"That's an order."

I was about to explode when I saw that the look on his face. The hire-ups needed this guy which meant trying to maintain his cooperation. I reluctantly got up from my chair and headed to the café nearby, reflexively giving the prick an evil glare. He laughed it off like I was just some kid. I was relieved to find no line-up.

"What can I get you *hiss* Earth clan?" said the Volus clerk.

"Just a Levo coffee, black, no suger."

"Are you sure you don't want any extra-"

"Yes."

"Sorry, sir. Just checking."

_And trying to grab more money from me. _I stood by the counter and a few seconds later, the cup of bland, genetic beans gathered by the good people of where ever was in my hand. _He didn't say get some good coffee._

Then a unique sound filled the air. It was behind me. I turned around to see Mr. Finch on the couch with a knife through his heart. The entire place erupted in panic. Bailey and Shea were already on their feet, circling Finch with their weapons drawn, looking for the killer. I forgot about the coffee and reached for my pistol, running out of the cafe.

"What the fuck just happened?"

Shea stayed at his spot, surveying the scene. "I don't know. Everything was fine and suddenly the guy got fucking stabbed!"

"Did you see anybody?"

"No!"

"Keep your eyes peeled!" commanded Bailey. "All of you stay down and stay calm!" he said to the civilians.

My heart was in my throat as I scanned in every direction. _How could no one have seen the killer?_

"This is Sergeant Bailey, our contact Ryan Finch is KIA. I repeat KIA, requesting back up immediately!" he said, his omni-tool activated.

"Copy that Sergeant. Be advised we are getting reports of two other homicides in your area."

Bailey's face reflected both Shea's and mine. I was thankful for not being the recipient of that call. I wouldn't know how to respond.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

"There has been reports of two homicides near your area, back up is on its way. ETA ten minutes."

We lowered our weapons slowly, trying to take in what in all that is holy had just happened.

"Copy that."

_I should've given Lucas that assault charge._

**Now Playing :**** Brian Tyler – Heat (Far Cry 3 OST)**

* * *

**Author's Note : I haven't had much to say recently but this time I have another shout-out to make. Lady Amiee Krios has started a new story that casts her, Rockycombo (In Love and War), Bronzeydamazon (Welcome to Earth, 2013), TheRev28 (Welcome to the Family) and myself. If you enjoy Mass Affect, you most likely will enjoy The Effects of Revenge... unless you're crazy. I mean, come on, it has me in it. How can it be bad?**

**So with that said, I'll end this with the cliche lines of I hope you enjoyed this chapter and feel free to tell me what you think. As always, PEACE.**


	13. Chapter 13 : Under

**Mass Affect: Revised Edition**

**Chapter 13: Under**

**December 24****th****, 2181**

**7:45 AM, Citadel Time**

**500 Blocks, Zakera Ward**

**(Josh)**

Many cops don't pull their guns out. Ever. Most don't get big cases or hunt down serial killers. Yet here I was, part of a scene that ended up with three murders in the span of a minute. The person I was supposed to protect, Cmdr, Ryan Fincher of the Eclipse merc gang was the first to go down. Along with Cpt. Barr Malak of the Blood Pack mercs and Marcus Beckett of Invictus, a Citadel gang, similar to the group we got our I.D's from, Zion. Three lock downs and three crowds of mortified citizens were the result. Bailey, Shea and I were required to give statements regarding the first murder to a fellow officer.

"Holy shit."

I turned to see Lucas and Bjorn standing near the markings where Fincher's body was earlier. It wasn't difficult to decipher Lucas was the one that had spoken. The officer questioning me made his last note and let me go. It was clear that I didn't have time to do anything beyond run close to the body. Shea answered the same questions to a different agent on the other side of the area. I made my way over to the lounge, recently covered in blood.

"What are you guys doing here?" I asked Lucas and Bjorn.

Lucas looked up from the holographic silhouette of the Fincher's location. "Heard about the murders over the comm channel."

"And you figured you'd check up on Shea and I?"

"Oh no, I heard you were fine. Just wanted to see this for myself."

I nodded with a knowing look. "I'm sure."

"So nobody saw the killer?"

I shook my head and crossed my arms. "Didn't even get a glance."

Bailey joined us. "None of us did."

"Whoever did this was good though," said Lucas. "Those wounds go through his kidney and heart."

I rose an eyebrow, as did Shea and Bailey.

"What? I hang out with Izan sometimes."

"So our killer comes over," said Bailey. "Somehow doesn't get noticed by anybody, stabs Fincher twice to be sure and then leaves."

"And probably told his buddies to kill our other two vics," added Shea.

"Why would there be a thirty second gap between each kill? You'd think the grouping would be a lot tighter than that."

"Perhaps they were making sure their rivals were eliminated."

We turned around to see a turian, he being the new voice. I could tell from Lucas' expression that he had seen him before, behind a screen. Lucas quickly suppressed his visual tells and reverted to a poker face, or tried to. It never worked well in a poker game.

"Sergeant," said the turian.

Bailey nodded. "Everyone, this is Detective Chellick."

We greeted the higher paid agent.

"I'm assuming that you already have a suspect? Based on previous experience," said Bailey.

"The Blue Suns."

It wasn't a huge revelation. It was obvious that in this universe the Eclipse, Blood Pack and Blue Sun merc gangs had been in competition, and not the kind with a fair rule set.

"Why not the Blood Pack?" asked Shea.

"This doesn't fit their MO of reduce everything they see into rubble," said Lucas. "Whoever did this knew how to use a blade."

"Exactly," said Chellick. "The shooters of the other two victims knew what they were doing too. We can determine Malak was killed by a pistol and a third sniped Beckett."

"Wouldn't people be able to see where they were shot from?" I asked.

"That doesn't help us with the second victim since nobody has I.D'd the shooter and both killers' firearms were equipped with silencers."

"What about the third shooter? Wouldn't we be able to track the trajectory at range?"

"Our killer must've known that. He used Cryo rounds, making Beckett as fragile as glass. We found his body split into multiple pieces."

I didn't appreciate that image in my head. "Okay and you're sure that this was done by the Blue Suns?"

"Ninety-five percent. That's why I plan on going to their headquarters."

Everybody did a double take on the turian, even our Sergeant.

"With all due respect, Detective," said Shea. "Wouldn't you just scare them and give them a chance to run?"

"They'll get scared if they're not our suspects. It'd mean they'd have many unwanted enemies gunning for them. If they are behind this, they would do no such thing and try to keep their tracks covered. A lot of planning goes into something like this. If they react as such then I'll know for certain they did this. I'd also like you to come along, Sergeant."

Bailey didn't seem as positive as Chellick but there was a clear sign of knowledge in his expression. He was putting the pieces together and coming to the same conclusions as the detective. He sighed, then looked at us. "Do you mind a few extra hands?" he asked the turian.

"The more the better."

"Okay then," he turned to Bjorn and Lucas. "You two check out the other victims and see if you can find any witnesses."

"Are you making us do that because of procedure or you just don't want to do it?" asked Lucas.

"Both."

"Oh, you son of a bitch," he muttered, earning a laugh from the sergeant.

* * *

Our police cruiser gently settled onto the ground next to Bailey's having followed him and Chellick to the Suns' HQ. One thing was certain; the merc gangs were far bigger than the station's gangs. Zion's HQ was big but it wasn't a tower block that required I crane my neck to see to the top. Then again, I had gotten used to doing that months ago.

Shea opened the door and we stepped out to join the sergeant and the detective. Two guards stood at the front glass doors, wearing the uninspired blue armor sets with white icons in the shape of a sun. The gangs weren't exactly known for their artistry. Or style. Well, at least when killing wasn't involved.

"So what's the plan?" I asked before we were in hearing range of the guards.

"Stand there and only speak when spoken to," said Chellick. "I'll handle the talking."

Unlike Fincher, there was no hostility in his tone, just telling me for my own good instead of his need to be a dick. I took a deep breath, Shea next to me. We walked behind our superiors. The guards tensed up as they saw us approaching. They were Turian. While the Krogans seemed to be the go to race for body guarding, I'd be lying if I said that the turians weren't intimidating. The door opened and we were close enough to see the battle scars they obtained during their time in the military.

Chellick paid no attention to them and entered the HQ. The place was clean and precise, like a lot of buildings on this station, but I felt a foreboding undercurrent, as if the area had been paved by the Suns' body count… which it probably was.

There was a human at the desk, buzz cut, clearly one of the rookies.

"How may I help you, Officers?" he said as if it were routine.

"We would like to speak to your Boss about three recent murders," replied Chellick, cool as the HQ's AC.

"Our Commander is awfully busy at the moment but Max Venturi would be happy to be of service."

"Who is he?"

"He is the HQ's Second in Command."

Chellick was quiet for a moment before nodding. "That will be fine."

The rookie looked away from the turian and hit a few buttons on his terminal's keypad before we heard a voice come through the intercom.

"Yes?" said a masculine, non-flanged voice. Human.

"Sir, there are four Agents from C-Sec. They would like to have a word with you."

"Let 'em through."

* * *

The cramped elevator opened five floors below the Penthouse, presumably occupied by the Commander. We could hear nothing but our furtive steps. A hallway led up to an office the size of our apartment. Behind his desk, sharply dressed and ensconced in a white leather chair was Max Venturi. For a person who professed to like the quiet he wasn't subtle. The trimmed facial beard, hair thick with product and old school watch practically shouted "I'm Italian!" _Wonder if he knows any good pizza places around here._

"Ah, hello, Officers," nationality confirmed as he stood. "My rookie didn't catch any of your names."

"Detective Chellick."

"Sergeant Bailey."

Awkward silence as all eyes fell on Shea and I. _Oh, right._

"Sh-"

"Jo-"

Both of us said, cutting each other off.

"Agent Stone."

"Agent Adams."

"Nice to meet you," said Venturi.

I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not and I think that was what made me dislike him, that or his pretentious outfit.

"So, what is this about?" he asked as he sat.

We chose to remain standing, Chellick stepping closer to the desk. He wanted to do the talking after all.

"There was a triple murder over at the 500 Blocks, you might've heard about it."

Venturi nodded. "Yes we did. Kind of hard to miss when it's the leading news story. Madness. What does that got to do with us?"

"I think it was you."

I couldn't help with blink. I had no idea Chellick was going to be that blunt.

"What?" asked Venturi, equally surprised. "What evidence do you have that suggests we would do such a thing? Everything we do is legal, Detective."

"You and I know that's not true. Don't you find it strange that all the mercenary groups were hit except yours?"

"That doesn't mean anything."

"Of course it does. It means the murders were for your benefit. No one else had any interest in the matter."

"Get out."

"Why?"

"Because you have no right to barge in here and make false accusations against us."

"You have nothing to do with this?"

"No!"

"Then you won't have a problem giving me a list of all your employees so we can check their alibis, right?"

To their credit both of them stayed in their places, even if it seemed Venturi wanted to rip Chellick's face off. Without seeing any other course of action though, Venturi sighed and nodded.

"You'll have the list on your way out."

We walked out, a brief hesitation from Venturi bothering me. He didn't seem like the kind of person who would have planned all this, but I kept it to myself. I wasn't the detective here.

**Now Playing****:**** Filter - Under**


	14. Chapter 14 : Retribution

**Mass Affect: Revised Edition**

**Chapter 14: Retribution**

**December 24****th****, 2181**

**8:30 AM, Citadel Time**

**C-Sec Academy, Zakera Ward**

**(Josh)**

The ride back to C-Sec was dull. I no longer felt any thrill from flying. Anything cool can get boring from over-use. Shea, Bailey, Chellick and myself made our way over to the investigators' space, some having their own offices. Chellick was one of those lucky people.

You can learn things from observing somebody's personal space and Chellick's room revealed his need for control. Every object was something he and he alone needed to manipulate or operate. The turian took a seat at his desk while the rest of us stood.

"So what's our next move?" asked Shea eagerly.

Chellick's eyes focused on his screen. "Now we go through the list Mr. Venturi gave us. Looks like he kept his promise."

A beep simultaneously chimed our omni-tools. One click gave me the Intel from Chellick. It was difficult to get a read on anything Venturi had said back at the Blue Suns headquarters. He was defensive and clearly using PR speak but there was never a point where I knew one hundred percent that he was lying. A recent article about the technology of face scanners stated they could simply tell the interrogator when a suspect is lying. Even after all these years though, they were still prone to failure and as a result C-Sec never invested in them.

The way Venturi gave us the list stirred something in me. Either he wanted us out of the way and prove his innocence or he had a plan. I could only hope it wasn't the latter.

I found a seat and rested my legs, prepared for an indeterminate wait in order to possibly find something. We would have to put each name through the database to see if anything came up. It didn't take long for my body to build muscle memory and allow my brain to wander to more interesting subjects, like how expensive that stupid coffee was or the new cutie at Reception.

* * *

**(Lucas)**

I don't like to think of myself as being completely anti-social. I mean, I can talk to a person and be respectful but goddamn, if there was anything that could make you anti-social, it'd be what Bjorn and I had been enduring the past few hours. Every motherfucker we ran into would start a sentence like a six year old, drag on and on and on with useless information, then say they hoped they were being helpful, to which I had to say "Yes" because I'm not a full-on douchebag, I just act like one.

Bjorn initially derived amusement from my frustrations but the effect quickly wore off. A hunt for three killers isn't going well when the main topic of discussion is whether Elysium is better than District 9. I decided to call in an early lunch at Mako's, Bjorn offering no objection. Some fresh bread and cocoa seemed like a great cure for my disease of boredom.

"I mean seriously, what the fuck?" I nearly yelled at the end of my rant, remembering that I wasn't the only person around.

An empty cup and crumb filled plate sat in front of me on the table. For some reason my eyes settled on them. Why did I bother with a window seat? I hadn't taken in the city view the whole time.

"It's good," said Bjorn in his monotone voice, knowing full well it'd elicit a sigh or a "Fuck you" from me. I went with the former.

"At least I know what to add to the simulation genre," I muttered, preparing my mocking advert voice. "Welcome to Cop Simulator! Experience the pulse pounding action of wanting to tell 'witnesses' to go fuck a jellyfish but not being able to because you'll be brought in for harassment! Make your decision between walking around for eight hours, flying for eight hours or both!"

"Of course the first thing I hear when I walk in is Lucas talking really fast?" Phil pondered aloud.

He and Paul arrived, pulling chairs to the empty sides of the table. Neither of them seemed enthusiastic.

"I'm guessing your day has been just as boring?" I asked.

"We did issue a parking ticket," said Paul. "Nothing along the lines of busting ninjas."

"We don't even know what the killer looks like. Where did you get 'ninja' from?"

"You didn't see him. Therefore according to known facts, he's a ninja."

I sighed and reached for my cup, savoring the last drop of chocolaty goodness.

"Not even a Fuck You?"

"Not in the mood," I replied, dropping the paperweight cup on the surface.

"Josh and Shea were okay, right?" asked Phil.

I nodded. "Yeah, they're fine. The killer wasn't after them. He and the others had their sights on the three VIPs."

"The others?" asked Paul.

Bjorn took over for me. "The three bosses died in separate places in the blocks. The investigators think a group of people planned this."

Paul was quiet. It wasn't like him, unless he had an epiphany. "Have you checked security footage from stores in the area?"

"Only two so far. Both of them go down though. The killers probably had jammers or something."

Paul suddenly stood from his chair and started making his way to the door. Phil got up too but as confused as I.

"Where are you going?" asked Phil.

Paul turned around, still moving toward the front door. "I've got an idea."

"Just because you planned out PAX, doesn't mean your Captain Know-It-All," muttered Phil.

"Are you coming or not?"

I shrugged. Bjorn and I followed along with Phil. I didn't know where my friend was going with this but I had a feeling he was going to make this day a little more meaningful. I hoped.

* * *

**(Josh)**

The evaluation I made about Chellick being the controlling type turned out to be sound. He made everyone be quiet the first hour we were going through the list of names. The database was fast but most of the employees were using cover I.D's, which meant going through more hurdles to find out that most of the members' crimes were petty. After that first hour of silence, not even the detective could keep his mouth shut. This opened the flood gates. Shea came in with his lunch of chips and soda, passing me a can.

"Why don't I get chips?"

"There was only one left," he said flatly.

"Can't you share them?"

"Nope."

I glared at him. He was already halfway through the bag. Shea sighed. "Fine, here." He tossed the bag across the room for me to catch.

"Why can't we just order in?" yawned Shea, looking at Bailey.

The old Sergeant looked up from his datapad, displaying the same useless information as ours. "Unless you want a poor kid to go through multiple security check points for a cold pizza, I'd deal with the appetizers."

"Why do they have to go through so much security?"

Chellick kept his eyes on the terminal as he spoke. "A human last year came in with a box claiming it was Chinese Take Out. Turned out to contain a case of explosives that destroyed a floor of the Academy."

Shea's eyes locked up as he took all that in. I didn't know how to respond.

"Oh," was all that Shea could emit.

The room went quiet, a sense of Deja vu rushing into the nearly empty space. There wasn't anything to be said. Thankfully, Chellick's omni-tool came to the rescue, ringing away before he hit answer, annoyed with the distraction.

"Yes?"

"Sir," said a voice. "We've got two officers requesting to come in. Raycevich and Vollmer."

"Let them through."

"Yes, Sir."

I crossed one leg over the other as the sound of footsteps came from the stairs. Lucas and Bjorn soon entered the detectives room, the latter as inscrutable as ever.

"Find out anything from the witnesses?" asked Bailey.

Lucas shook his head. "Nothing of value. A couple of the people we talked to say they saw an armor covered person just before Fincher was stabbed but that's as far as the details go. However they did say that they're most likely human or asari. So we can at least narrow that down."

"What about security cameras?" I asked. "There's dozens of shops in those areas, they must've caught something."

"It's a good thing you didn't place any bets then. All of the shops close to where our victims were murdered all go dark at the time of the deaths except for our last one. It's most likely our killer was using a jammer."

"Shit," said Shea. "Now we're never going to find these assholes."

"I didn't say that," Lucas replied smugly, drawing the full attention of the detective and sergeant.

"What have you found?" asked Chellick.

"Come with us and we'll show you."

* * *

**(Lucas)**

The view of the street in the 500 Blocks provided many sights. The endless skyscrapers, stores at every turn, the other Wards hanging above us and the highlighted floor panel showing me where our third victim was killed. The detective and sergeant were standing near the railing, looking down the view. Bjorn meanwhile was standing next to me while Shea and Josh were at the far corner of the catwalk. The security guard had given me the evil eye when we showed up earlier, telling them we needed access to the whole area.

"So you think the third killer sniped Beckett from here?" said Chellick, looking at the view.

My eyes were aimed elsewhere. "I _know_ that Beckett was sniped from here."

"And you know this how?" asked the turian.

I didn't move my head as Chellick and Baily turned to see what I was looking at; the security camera above us.

"I thought you said the cameras were jammed," said Shea.

"They were."

"So how do you know the killer was here?"

I brought up my omni-tool and pulled up a screen showing the footage taken from another camera on the catwalk. I explained it to the others and pointed at the said camera on the other side before another turn was made. The timestamp on the security footage showed that the video deactivated only a few seconds before the same thing happened at the camera above us.

"This happened on all the cameras on the catwalk from the first victim to the last."

I still wasn't a master of reading turians but Chellick's face lit up as he put the puzzle together. "They used the catwalks."

"There's only one killer," said Shea, realizing. "The different methods were just a hoax."

"You couldn't nail anybody on that list of employee's right?"

"All clean, nobody didn't have an alibi," Josh confirmed.

"Now you know why."

Bailey crossed his arms. "We still don't know who did it though. This doesn't get us anywhere..." The sergeant stopped when he saw the smirk on my face. "Who is it?"

"Max Venturi," answered Bjorn.

**Now Playing:**** Blue Stahli - Retribution**


	15. Authors Note

**Authors Note**

**Hello everybody.**

**So you may be wondering why there hasn't been a new chapter for this story in a while. Well, this is going to sound sudden and probably stupid but, I just don't feel much for this story any more. I have the next few chapters finished and just need to edit them, however, as I was working on the final case, I realized that I couldn't get much writing done because I wasn't excited for the story anymore. I felt like I was just going through the motions without any real drive or creativity.**

**That's why I'm going to close this story down… Yes I know, this sucks. I really wanted to get this done so I could move onto Mass Affect 3: The Human Spectre, but I feel like if I can't like my own story, it's going to come across. Now this doesn't mean I'm done with writing, far from it. Instead, I'm moving onto a new SI with a much bigger focus on specific characters and a unique story. At the moment it's called Homeworld and I'm writing the third chapter for it. It's coming together well so far and I've even got a cover for it.**

**I won't say specifically when it's out but it'll be sometime in the near future and it'll be a big step up from all of Mass Affect. I just can't really focus on a story with so many characters, especially when that problem is only going to get worse as the story progresses.**

**Now there will definitely be some similarities to Mass Affect in Homeworld, but for the most part, it's going to be its own story.**

**If you guys want me to post the next chapter just to see how this case ends, I can do so. And if you want to catch Homeworld when it's first out, be sure to put my channel on the alert. For every person that has subscribed, favourited, reviewed and read, thank you. You guys and gals are awesome.**

**Special shout outs go to FeZeTh13 for the consistently great reviews and Bronzedamazon for the excellent concrit, as well as all my friends on the crazy fanfiction forum that is Afterlife.**

**Thank you for reading this note and I hope to see you when Homeworld's out and as always, PEACE.**


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